Growing Up Goblin
by Lady Sloane
Summary: AU. What if, at age 5, Harry was adopted by goblins? What if that was the world he knew until entering Hogwarts? Well, for starters, the world will be very different...
1. Prologue

**Prologue:**

Harry was a freak. A very very bad freak who needed to be punished. A freak who was the lone survivor of a car crash whose father was a drunk and who was a burden to his good, law-abiding aunt and uncle. And that was why he was lying on his tiny cot in his cupboard under the stairs, stomach grumbling with hunger and back aching from the belting his uncle had given him. At this point in time, Harry-the-freak is 5. He is not yet aware that magic is real yet. But he will soon. And soon, his life will be changed forever.

-o-o-

It is yet another normal day in the Dursley household. The freak had just finished cooking breakfast and is waiting for Dudley to come downstairs and eat.

The doorbell rang. Aunt Petunia grumbled about crazy people who couldn't just visit at a reasonable hour, but went to go get it, yelling at the freak to go to his cupboard and stay there.

Aunt Petunia opened the door and came face to face with two strangers dressed in formal suits.

"Mrs. Petunia Dursley, I presume?" One of them asked.

"Yes, how may I help you gentlemen?" She replied.

"You are the legal guardian of your nephew, one Harry Potter?" He questioned.

"What do you want?" Petunia demanded angrily, becoming defensive. Her nephew was the one dark spot in her otherwise perfectly normal life.

"There have been some irregularities with your nephew's bank account and we wished to confirm them with you. Perhaps we can take this inside? This isn't a conversation to be had on a doorstep," he said, gesturing behind him to the neighbors peeking at them from their windows.

"C-come in then," she stuttered, opening the door wider and waving them in.

"Who is it, Pet?" Uncle Vernon rumbled, thundering down the steps, just as Petunia was leading the two gentlemen into the sitting room.

"These two gentlemen say that there are some irregularities with the freak's bank account," Petunia replied.

"WHAT? The freak has a bank account? I didn't even know that freaks had a bank!" He roared.

Just then, the air around the two gentlemen shifted, and they transformed from two perfectly "normal" gentlemen wearing business suits to two goblins wearing their formal bank uniform. Not that, of course, Petunia and Vernon knew what goblins looked like.

"So you two are freaks too!" Petunia shrieked angrily.

"We are goblins," one of the goblins stated, "and we're representatives from Gringotts Bank. We'll only take a few moments of your time this morning, just to confirm that money withdrawn goes where it is supposed to go."

"According to our records," the other goblin continued, pulling out a scroll from somewhere and unfurling it, "A Mr. Albus Dumbledore withdraws a sum of 100 galleons a month to be given to Mr. Potter's guardians for his upkeep. Converted into British pounds, that would be a sum of £5000 a month. Quite a substantial sum of money."

"We've never seen a penny for taking in the boy!" Vernon shouted angrily.

"I see," replied the goblin calmly, "we shall have the matter rectified shortly. Before we depart, may we speak to the boy in private for a few moments?"

"No," Petunia said shortly, starting to usher the two goblins towards the door.

"I'm afraid you misunderstand Mrs. Dursley," the goblin stated, "that was not a request; that was an order. Now go fetch your nephew."

Petunia gulped and nodded weakly before crossing the room to open the cupboard under the stairs. "Behave yourself freak," she hissed before turning back to the goblins.

"I do believe that I said a private conversation, Mrs. Dursley," the goblin said smirking viciously.

Petunia gulped before heading into the kitchen, Vernon in tow.

-o-o-

"Now, tell me, young Mr. Potter," the goblin said once Petunia and Vernon had left the room, "How do your Aunt and Uncle treat you?"

"W-w-what?"

"You heard him," the other goblin repeated, "How do your Aunt and Uncle treat you?"

"O-okay I guess. They treat me like the freak I am," Harry replied confusedly.

"I see," the goblin replied, "And what would you say if I told you I could remove you from your Aunt and Uncle's care?"

"Who would want to take me in? I'm a burden to all good people in the world," Harry responded, with the tone of someone repeating something he's heard over and over again.

The two goblins exchanged glances. "Yes," one of them said, "I think we're in agreement."

-o-o-

**A/N:** I hope you enjoyed this story so far. Please note that this story will contain some bashing of Dumbledore. I will update as soon as possible, but tentative update date is October 11th.

Please review!

Chapter posted: October 7th, 2019

Chapter edited: October 21st, 2019 (some grammar errors)


	2. Chapter 1: An Eventful Birthday

**Chapter 1: An Eventful Birthday**

Harry Potter was a very strange goblin. For one thing, he wasn't a goblin at all; technically, he was a wizard. However, he wasn't any ordinary wizard either. He was the boy-who-lived. That wasn't the most surprising thing about him though. The most surprising thing was that he was a wizard celebrity adopted by goblins and raised by goblins.

Why might this be a surprise, you might ask? Well, it is generally well known that wizards and goblins don't really get along. Most wizards also lived under the misconception that the boy-who-lived was living in a loving wizarding home.

The loving part was right, of course, but wizarding? The goblins working in the bank had trouble suppressing their emotions every time a wizard mentioned such a thing.

Goblin-wizarding matters aside, Harry Potter grew up very happily after that very fateful day when Swordclaw and Stormaxe removed him from his relatives' home. Oh how his life had changed after that fateful day! No longer was he required to cook and clean everyday with little expectation for food at the end of the day or belittled and called a freak every minute of the day. Now, the only expectation was to do well in his studies and behave appropriately given his station in both the goblin and wizarding worlds.

-o-o-

It took a few moments of staring at the stone ceiling of his bedroom after Harry woke up to realize what day it was. Excitedly, he realized that it was his eleventh birthday! He was going to have a birthday party later on in the day and he had invited all of his friends. Plus, Swordclaw and Stormaxe had hinted about a very special gift for his eleventh birthday and he was practically dying to see what it would be.

However, Harry also knew that as a wizard and the boy-who-lived, he was expected to - no, required to - attend Hogwarts. He knew that his upcoming days after his birthday will be very busy, making final preparations for his grand entry to the wizarding world (as opposed to the goblin world).

Speaking of his grand entry to the wizarding world, where was his letter from Hogwarts? It was already the end of July; it should have arrived by now. No matter, Harry thought as he stretched, it will come when it comes and fretting about it won't change a thing.

Exiting his quarters, Harry navigated the twisting and winding corridors of the goblin caves with the deftness of someone who had lived there all their lives. Unknown to most of the general populace, the goblins actually lived in the same cave system the bank vaults were located in, just farther down. Much farther down.

-o-o-

Entering the dining hall, Harry was shocked when an owl suddenly swooped down to land on his shoulders. Owls never came down to the goblin living quarters; they were always handled upstairs.

"A rather persistent bird, isn't he?" Fiercetooth, his honorary uncle, commented with a toothy grin reminiscent of his name, "Hurry up and take the letter so I can eat the stupid bird already."

"You'll do no such thing to the poor bird!" Harry retorted, as he untied the letter from the owl's foot. He gasped when his brain finally caught up and he realized that it was the Hogwarts seal on the envelope. Flipping around the envelope to double check, sure enough, in a distinctive spiky green ink, were the words:

_Mr. H. Potter_  
_Third right-hand quarters in the fourth left-hand corridor off the main northern corridor_  
_Gringotts Bank_  
_London Branch_

"Who's it from?" Asked Sharpblade, one of his closest friends.

"Hogwarts," Harry breathed, "it's finally happening."

Carefully slitting the envelope, Harry took out the parchment that was inside. He read it once. Then he read it again, getting stuck on one particular sentence in the second paragraph.

"We await your owl by no later than 31 July?!" Harry exclaimed, "But it's already the 31st today!"

"What exactly is going on here?" Came the gravelly voice of the clan leader, Firedagger.

"Sir," Harry said, turning to face Firedagger with a slight bow, "I've just received my Hogwarts letter and they've requested a response no later than July 31st."

"Ahh, I see," Firedagger replied with a smile starting to take over his face, "after we eat our breakfasts, we shall head up to the surface to write our response. If a missive is what they want, than a missive is what they shall get. No better way to make a lasting first impression than this."

-o-o-

Immediately after finishing their breakfasts, Firedagger and Harry rode up to the surface at a hair-raising speed.

Once ensconced in Firedagger's office, he took out his expensive vellum parchment that he saved for special occasions and his ostrich feather quill and set it in front of Harry.

"Now, write in your best calligraphy what I'm about to dictate to you."

"Don't I get a say in this?" grumbled Harry, though quickly picking up the quill after Firedagger glared at him.

_"Dear Deputy Headmistress McGonagall,_  
_Thank you for your kind letter of acceptance. I will, of course, be honored to attend Hogwarts._  
_However, my guardian insists that certain stipulations must be made before I can attend Hogwarts. He believes that you will find them very reasonable. They are the following:_  
_1.) The Headmaster may never request a meeting with me without a) 72 hours advance notice, b) a valid academic reason, and c) the presence of my head of house or my guardian._  
_2.) Any and all injuries must be immediately reported to my guardian, no matter how minor or trivial they may seem._  
_3.) Monthly academic (detailing all grades for all assignments) and disciplinary (detailing all point gains/losses and detentions, as well as their reasons) reports must be sent to my guardian_  
_4.) Any cause for concern should be immediately reported to my guardian._  
_5.) Failure to comply with those stipulations will lead to my immediate withdrawal from Hogwarts._  
_If you have any questions, they can be addressed to my guardian, Firedagger._

_Sincerely,_  
_Harry Potter_  
_Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter_  
_Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Peverell_  
_Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black"_

"This will be fun," Harry said when he was finally done writing.

"Indeed," replied Firedagger, "I look forward to seeing our plans come to fruition. Now, I'll have the letter sent out immediately. Why don't you go find your friends now, young one? After all, a boy only turns eleven once."

-o-o-

As soon as Harry entered there common room, his best friend and brother-in-all-but-blood, Sharpblade, ran up to him.

"Is what everyone is saying true? Are you really going to go to Hogwarts? I thought you were just joking!" Sharpblade babbled.

"Well, I guess it would depend on what everyone is saying, but yes, I'm going to Hogwarts," Harry replied amusedly, "as I'm something of a celebrity among wizards, it's expected for me to go. I promise I'll write though, every week. Will you write back?"

"Is that even a question?" Sharpblade responded, "Of course I'll write back! I'm going to be so lonely though! Who will I have to complain about Master Bognak to now?"

Smiling, Harry fell into a lively banter with his friend. He would really miss Sharpblade when he went to Hogwarts.

-o-o-

Harry spent the rest of the morning and afternoon with his friends, talking and laughing. He knew that once Hogwarts started up, he wouldn't be able to spend much time with them, even on breaks. He savored these carefree moments with his friends.

Before he knew it, it was dinner time. The phrase "time flies when you're having fun" had never seemed more true to him. After dinner would be presents. He couldn't wait to see what his friends had gotten him and what the special gift Swordclaw and Stormaxe had hinted about might be.

Dinner time arrived. Harry chatted merrily with his friends as they ate. Well, rather they ate while Harry bolted down his food in hopes of getting presents sooner. After what seemed like hours, Firedagger announced, "Let us adjourn to the common room for presents!"

-o-o-

Laying in bed, happy after a day of excitement, Harry smiled as he thought of all the wonderful presents he had received. Sharpblade had given him a multi-purpose tool that he had forged himself, saying, "For when you inevitably get in trouble". His other friends had given him all sorts of wonderful books, knowing how much he liked to read. Fiercetooth had given him a new set of throwing knives, tips dipped in a slow-acting poison. But the best gift of all was from the entire clan. At the end, when everyone else had given him their gifts, Firedagger had presented him an enchanted dragonhide sheath and Swordclaw and Stormaxe had presented him his own personal dagger.

Every goblin child received one on their eleventh birthday, but Harry had never expected to receive one as he wasn't really a goblin. Goblins always kept that special dagger on them, even after their deaths. The dagger wasn't just his personal dagger, although in goblin society that already made it very important, but it was a symbol of his acceptance into the goblin community, despite the many protests when Swordclaw and Strongaxe had first taken him from the Dursleys.

Harry went to sleep that night with a smile on his lips.

-o-o-

**A/N:** And another chapter completed! Next chapter will be the month of August... what exciting things will Harry and the goblins have planned before he goes to Hogwarts?

Speaking of Hogwarts, what house do you all want Harry to be in? I have some idea, but if a lot of people have another suggestion (and a good reason), I'm flexible to change.

As for pairings, Harry is still young yet! I'm not sure exactly where this story is going to go, but we'll get there when we get there.

Please review and let me know what you think of the story so far! Thank you to everyone who read, favorited, followed, and reviewed so far!

Tentative update date: October 15th

Chapter posted: October 10th, 2019


	3. Chapter 2: The Month of August

**Chapter 2: The Month of August**

"Albus?" Minerva's panicked voice came from the green flames of his fireplace.

"Yes, Minerva?" Albus responded, sucking merrily on his lemon drop.

"Can I come through?"

"Yes, yes, come on through," Albus replied, as Minerva stepped through the fireplace, "Lemon drop?"

"Albus!" Minerva exclaimed impatiently thrusting a letter in front of his long crooked nose, "Read this!"

Albus read the letter once. Then a second time. If he hadn't had such a good control of his emotions, his jaw would have dropped in shock. Speechless, all he could say was, "Oh dear..."

Internally, Albus' mind was racing. Where had his plans gone wrong? Why hadn't Mrs. Figg said anything? How could he salvage his plans?

Just then, they heard a knock on the door. "Come in!" Said Albus, putting a jovial look on his face.

The door was pushed open, creaking slightly. A group of goblins armed to the teeth marched in. Splitting up in sync, the goblins went digging through the different sections of Albus' offices, with the exception of one who appeared to be the leader and stood by the entrance.

"What's going on?" Demanded Albus angrily.

"Simply reclaiming some of our client's stolen items." The goblin replied, smirking inwardly.

"WHAT?" Exclaimed Albus, his grandfatherly expression nowhere to be seen as the goblins packed away his collection of books, "I'm no thief! Those items are all mine by right!"

"I see..." The goblin responded as he plucked an item from there shelf next to him, "So you mean to say that this book, 'The Diary of Lily Evans', belongs to you?"

Albus paled. "I was only keeping it for safekeeping until young Harry was old enough to receive it," he offered weakly, trying to salvage the situation.

At this point, Minerva, who had been standing quietly in the room the whole time, spoke up, "Albus Dumbledore! Tell the truth! You had no intention of giving it back to young Harry did you? It's as clear as day that you're lying; it's written plainly on your face. "

Albus wanted to bury his face in his hands and never look up, but he couldn't; he had gone too far to stop now. First Potter's letter, then the goblin situation, and now his own deputy was turning against him! Today was not a good day for Albus Dumbledore.

-o-o-

Harry, on the other hand, was having an absolutely wonderful day. In the morning, he claimed the head of house rings for the Potter and Peverell houses as was his right since he had turned eleven. He also claimed the heir ring for the House of Black. Then, he officially gave the order for his belongings that Dumbledore stole to be reclaimed.

He spent the afternoon going over the account books for the Potter, Peverell, and Black houses. As Dumbledore had previously been in charge of them (up until that morning when he claimed the head of house rings), he had been unable to even glance at them. Now though, he was in charge of the accounts and nothing Dumbledore could do or say would change that.

He did notice some irregularities with the accounts, but attributed them to Dumbledore's had stolen a lot of gold from him, saying that it was supposedly "for his upkeep". In reality, all those funds went straight into Dumbledore's pockets. Well, there and the vault for the "Order of Phoenix", whatever that was. He would have to add that to the list of things he needed to ask Firedagger later.

That list was actually turning out to be quite long, considering the fact that he was raised a goblin and knew the ins and outs of the wizarding economy. The first on the list was his parents' wills. Apparently someone (aka the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot aka Albus Dumbledore) had decided that it was a good idea to seal their wills. As he was raised a goblin, he did have ways to circumvent that, but only with Firedagger's help.

Second on the list was the trial records and criminal files for all of the members of the Black family that were currently incarcerated. More specifically, the trial transcript of one Sirius Black, the head of the House of Black. Bellatrix Lestrange's (nee Black) trial transcript was public record and easy enough to find. However, someone (read Albus Dumbledore) had the bright idea to seal Sirius Black's criminal file. Like in the previous case, Harry could get to them, but only with Firedagger's help.

You see, the wizards and witches of the ministry had a copy of each and every piece of paperwork that had ever passed through the ministry stored in a vault in Gringotts. Even if the papers were later destroyed, they were still stored in the Gringotts vault. Only the goblin leader was able to access the vault, thus necessitating Firedagger's assistance. Normally goblins couldn't care less about the affairs of the ministry, but they would make an exception for Harry. Because, well, Harry was just special.

Third on the list was to ask about the ritual for identifying family bloodlines. There had been a small side note in the Peverell account books mentioning Ravenclaw's family line, and Harry wanted to see whether or not it was true.

Fourth on the list was to claim the Bellatrix's vaults. As she was currently in Azkaban and would be for the rest of her life, as head of her house, he was permitted to claim her vauls.

Fifth on the list was to inquire about the various Harry Potter merchandise companies floating around. He would need to see whether or not he was entitled to a percentage of the profits, as they were using his name and image.

And last on the list was the Order of Phoenix business.

With his list done and made, Harry went to dinner, resolving to speak to Firedagger as soon as possible.

-o-o-

It was a few days later before Harry was able to speak to Firedagger. He was very busy running the bank, after all. Harry had spent the intervening days reading some of the books his friends had given him for his birthday.

As he arrived at the ground level of the bank, an owl swooped down and landed on his shoulder. Noticing that it had a Hogwarts seal on it, Harry broke the seal and read the letter, nodding contently when he finished reading.

Arriving at Firedagger's office, Harry knocked and opened the door when he heard a gruff "Enter!"

"Ah, yes, Harry, do come in and sit down," Firedagger said as he entered, "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yes," Harry replied passing over the letter that he had just received, "But first I want to show you this. An owl delivered it to me as I was walking to your office."

The letter read:

"_Dear Mr. Harry Potter,  
__I am glad to hear that you are indeed attending Hogwarts. Regarding your guardian's requirements, I would like to meet with you and your guardian in person at a time and place of your choosing to clarify them.  
__Although this is not strictly Hogwarts-related, I wish for you to know that I did not agree with Headmaster Dumbledore when he first placed you with the Dursleys and I do not condone thievery of any kind.  
__I await your reply._

_Sincerely,  
__Minerva McGonagall  
__Hogwarts Deputy Headmistress"_

"Hmm… interesting…" Firedagger said as he finished reading the letter, "I suppose I can clear some time in my schedule to meet with her later this week as I will have to be the public face of Harry Potter's guardian."

"So I'll write back and tell her the 8th of August at Gringotts?" Harry questioned.

"Yes," confirmed Firedagger, "I am free at 15:00, so we can meet then. What else did you wish to discuss?"

Pulling out the list of questions that he had written down, he and Firedagger got to work.

-o-o-

As he lay in his bed that night staring up at the stone ceiling, Harry reflected on the exciting and rather exhausting day he had.

After his conversation with Firedagger, Harry had taken a bloodline test and discovered that not only was he descended from Rowena Ravenclaw as he had thought, but he was also descended from Salazar Slytherin from his mother's side! As it turns out, his mother was descended from a squib line of Salazar Slytherin, making him the heir. However, due to clauses in the rules for inheritance for the Slytherin and Ravenclaw lines, Harry wouldn't be able to become head of house until he turned 14. But still, it was something.

The fact that his mother, a muggleborn, was descended from Salazar Slytherin made him think. Perhaps other muggleborns were actually descended from squib lines too. Such a revelation would shake the foundations of the wizarding world. It was something to investigate.

After that, he and Firedagger went down to the ministry vault. What they found down there shocked them to the core.

Apparently, according to his parents' will, Harry was not supposed to, under any circumstances, go live with Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon. There was a list of ten people that he was supposed to go live with, and Firedagger knew that at least five of them were still alive to this day. The will also named Dumbledore as the executor. That meant that Dumbledore knew he wasn't supposed to go live with Vernon and Petunia but sent him there anyway! But that wasn't even the most shocking thing that was written in the will.

According to his parents' will, Peter Pettigrew was their secret-keeper, not Sirius Black. At first, Harry didn't believe it. There was no way that the ministry was so incompetent that an innocent man was sent to Azkaban for life! Such a thing surely would have come out at his trial, right?

However, when he pulled out Sirius Black's file, he realized that yes, the ministry was that incompetent. Apparently Sirius hadn't even had a trial!

The rest of the day was spent at the ministry, arguing with various hoity-toity seeming officials. Finally, Amelia Bones, head of the department of magical law enforcement, agreed to give Sirius a trial as soon as possible.

"It won't be easy though," she had warned, "there are going to be plenty of politicians trying to cover this up and more than willing to send an innocent man back to Azkaban if it made them look good."

Harry had replied, "Of course it won't be easy, but I'll never be able to forgive myself if I don't at least try."

Amelia Bones had agreed to meet with Harry again at Gringotts the next day to go over their game plan for how to get a bunch of corrupt politicians to admit that they were wrong.

August was turning out to be even more crazy than Harry had expected.

-o-o-

The rest of August was hectic. What time that was not spent speaking with Amelia Bones about the Sirius Black situation was spent with Firedagger discussing the Dumbledore situation. On top of that, Harry spent many hours in the forge or in the classroom trying to learn ahead with the help of his tutors so he wouldn't fall behind in the goblin education system when he was at Hogwarts. With all that going on, it was amazing that Harry even managed to go to bed each night.

The meeting with Professor McGonagall was particularly memorable. She had stared, gape-mouthed for a few moments when Firedagger had introduced himself as his guardian. After that though, she had regained her composure and quickly agreed to Firedagger's requirements.

Shortly after that meeting, Harry had ventured into Diagon Alley with Stormaxe to gather his Hogwarts supplies. The visit to Ollivander's shop was certainly an odd experience. At the end though, he had gotten a holly and phoenix feather wand. Apparently the wand was the brother wand of Lord Voldemort's, but Harry couldn't see how that would matter. After all, a wand was just what you made it to be.

After that visit, Harry added practicing wizarding magic and reading his Hogwarts textbooks to his daily schedule.

Much to his disappointment, due to politicians dragging their feet, Sirius' trial wouldn't be held until October at the earliest.

But despite that, August flew by. Before he knew it, it was September 1st and he was getting ready to leave to board the Hogwarts Express.

-o-o-

**A/N:** Another chapter done, many more to go! Hogwarts Express will be next!

Thank you to everyone who has read, followed, favorited, and reviewed. It makes me so happy that so many people are reading my story!

Tentative update date: October 21st

Chapter posted: October 15th, 2019

Chapter edited: October 21st, 2019 (some grammar errors)


	4. Chapter 3: The Hogwarts Express

**Chapter 3: The Hogwarts Express**

Albus Dumbledore was worried. He'll like to describe himself as slightly unfazed, but there was no denying it anymore. He was extremely worried. How could his plans go so wrong in just one month's time?

In just one month, he had lost access to the Potter accounts, his deputy headmistress had taken to ignoring him when it was possible, and his power had been greatly diminished.

The Daily Prophet, who had been singing his praises before, had started subtly questioning his decisions and undermining his power. The opinions of the sheep were slowly but surely turning against him.

Not only that, but his political power had been practically nullified, as he had been using the Potter Wizengamot seat to push through his own reforms. The only reason he had been able to become Chief Warlock was because of the many votes and power that the Potter Wizengamot seat carried.

After the fiasco with the goblins, his deputy headmistress had been avoiding him, spending as little time in his magnificent presence as possible. All of his teachers had been whispering, abruptly turning silent when he entered the room.

In short, Albus Dumbledore's plans were in jeopardy. But even so, he was determined to salvage them. He just hoped that young Harry had been raised ignorant.

-o-o-

The morning of September 1st dawned bright but chilly.

After eating a quick breakfast, Harry said goodbye to everyone. He would miss all of his friends when he went to Hogwarts. At least winter break was only 3.5 months away.

At 30 minutes to 10, it was time for Harry to leave. He shrunk his special goblin made trunk with plenty of special features, such as security measures. Firedagger glamoured himself to look human, and the pair of them set out to King's Cross Station. They arrived at the station with time to spare. Without breaking stride, the pair of them stepped through the barrier and into Platform 9 and 3/4.

At once, they spotted the scarlet and gold train that was the Hogwarts Express. On the platform, families bustled about, younger children playing tag, older children happily greeting their friends, parents shedding a tear or two.

"I suppose you should board the train," Firedagger said, as they stood there on the platform, "Good luck at Hogwarts. Do the clan proud. I expect updates every week."

Just as Harry was boarding the train, Firedagger stepped forward and gave him a brief hug. By the time his brain had registered that, Firedagger had already stepped back and disappeared in the crowd.

To say that Harry was surprised was an understatement. Goblins were generally not the most demonstrative of species. Firedagger himself had succeeded politically in part because of his cold outward demeanor. For Firedagger to have hugged him surprised him more than he would ever admit. But still, it made him feel warm and happy inside.

-o-o-

Firedagger knew that he would definitely miss Harry. He had become an important part of his life, and somehow hard means to wriggle through his hard exterior into his heart.

Firedagger wasn't one for physical affection, really. (That was the understatement of the century.) No goblins were. But yet, he found himself impulsively giving Harry a hug as he boarded the train.

He would make sure to have a heart-to-heart discussion with Harry when he got back during winter break. In the meantime, he had a bank to run and lots of paperwork to do.

-o-o-

Meanwhile, Harry had boarded the train and settled in an empty compartment. He had never been more glad that he had let Firedagger talk him into a shrinkable, ever-light trunk. Thanks to the enchantments the goblin craftsman had applied when creating the trunk, it could be shrunk to the size of a pack of cards, would always remain light, and could fit much more stuff than it seemed. Plus, there was always the security features.

Thanks to his amazing trunk, he didn't need to drag it around; he could just simply carry it in his pocket.

Once settled in a compartment, Harry took out a book on goblin craftsmanship and began reading. He might as well start catching up to what his friends would learn while he was away.

-o-o-

Shortly before the train started moving, a bushy-haired girl poked her head around the door.

"Is anyone - oh! What book is that?" She asked, becoming excited as soon as she saw that he was reading a book.

Smiling that he had found a kindred bookworm, Harry replied, "Crafting for Apprentices," as he put a bookmark in and closed the book, "Why don't you come in? It can't be easy dragging your trunk around like that."

"Thanks, umm, what's your name?"

"I'm Harry," he replied as he helped her hoist her trunk to the luggage rack.

"Nice to meet you Harry. I'm Hermione. Do you like reading books? I do. I've read all the course books so far at least three times each. Hogwarts: A History is my favorite by far even though it's not technically one of the course books. It all seems so interesting," Hermione started to babble, "I can't wait to learn everything! Oh!" She exclaimed, just noticing something was missing, "Where's your trunk?"

Laughing, Harry replied, "Yes, I love to read. I've read all the course books at least once. Hogwarts: A History is rather interesting, although glaringly inaccurate, which is why it is so fascinating to read. As for my trunk," he said as he pulled it out of his pocket and unshrunk it, "It's right here."

"Wow! How did you do that? Was that wandless magic? And what do you mean that Hogwarts: A History is inaccurate? How can it possibly be wrong?"

Still smiling, Harry answered as he re-shrunk his trunk and placed it back into his pocket, "No, not wandless magic, just enchantments woven into the wood. And as far as Hogwarts: A History is concerned, have you ever heard of the phrase, 'history is written by the victors'?"

"Yes..." Hermione responded not sure where this was going but more subdued since apparently her favorite book was all a lie.

"Well, in many cases wizards were the victors, especially the so-called light wizards. That means, of course, that the losers are always portrayed negatively in order to justify the winners' side. For example, the goblins, the house elves, the centaurs, the dragons, the mermen, the werewolves, and the muggleborn have all been oppressed due to being on the losing side at one point in time or another. History reflects that, books like Hogwarts: A History most especially."

"I see..." Hermione said distractedly, brain whirring frantically as she tried to process the inside of what she had just been told.

Still smiling, Harry replied, "Take your time and think about it. Ask me if you have any questions," as he opened his book once again and started to read.

-o-o-

Shortly after the train started up, the door to their compartment jerked open sharply, bursting Harry and Hermione out of their quiet companionship.

A freckled face with red hair pulled his head through the door, stared at them for a few seconds, then abruptly slammed the compartment door shut again.

"How rude," Harry commented, before turning back to his book.

-o-o-

Midway through the train ride, Harry and Hermione were interrupted once again, this time by a blonde-haired guy with his two henchmen.

Opening the door and inviting themselves in without permission, the blonde guy pompously declared, "I heard Harry Potter was coming to Hogwarts this year. Is he here?"

After studying Harry and Hermione for a moment and glancing at their clothing, they heard him mutter, before they could reply to his statement, "Mudbloods. Come on Crabbe and Goyle."

Then, just as rudely as they had entered, the trio exited the compartment, leaving Harry and Hermione in peace.

-o-o-

Shortly after that, the trolley lady came by, asking, "Anything off the trolley, dears?"

"No thank you," Harry replied, "I'm not much for sweets. How about you Hermione?"

"I'm good thank you," Hermione answered.

-o-o-

As they were approaching Hogwarts, Hermione finally broke the silence. "So what House do you think you want to be in?" She asked.

"Well, it's not really my decision, is it," Harry replied, "I suppose I'll be okay with any House though. You?"

"Definitely Gryffindor," she stated firmly.

"Oh?" Harry asked, "Why's that? No offence, but you seem to be more of the bookish type, suited for Ravenclaw rather than Gryffindor."

"Because it's the best house," she said matter-of-factly, "Albus Dumbledore, the greatest wizard since Merlin himself, was a Gryffindor."

"Merlin was a Slytherin," Harry retorted, "But even disregarding that, history is written by the victors, remember? And Albus Dumbledore, no matter how he may portray himself to the general public, is most certainly not a good wizard. I would go as far as to call him an evil one."

"What do you mean?" Hermione cried out desperately, her entire world view being torn into shreds while she desperately tried to cling on, "He defeated the dark wizard Grindelwald, he worked with Nicholas Flamel, and most importantly of all, he's the headmaster of Hogwarts! How can he be an evil wizard?"

"First of all," Harry replied, "the only proof of him defeating Grindelwald is his word. Besides, I have it on good authority that they were close friends at one point. How do you know that Dumbledore actually 'defeated' him? Secondly, while he may have worked with Nicholas Flamel at one point, I know for a fact that his work on the 13 uses of dragon blood was plagiarized from other wizards and witches. Besides, I never denied that he wasn't brilliant, just that he was using his cleverness in an evil manner. And why would him being the headmaster of Hogwarts have anything to do with anything?"

"But- But-" Hermione stuttered.

Harry cut her off, "Anyways, if you actually want proof that Dumbledore is evil, all you need to do is look at my bank records and his Wizengamot voting records. I think they speak for themselves. And if that still doesn't convince you, think about this- If someone in muggle England was the headmaster of the most prestigious school in the country, the leader of Parliament, and the leader of the UN, what would you think of them? You certainly would be suspecting them of some sort of corruption, not believing that they are the greatest person that ever lived, won't you?"

"I- I- I guess so..."

"Exactly," Harry said satisfied that he made his point, "We should get changed; we're almost at Hogwarts. I'll wait outside the compartment."

-o-o-

As he stood outside the compartment, Harry couldn't help but let his mind wander. Soon, they will be at Hogwarts. Harry couldn't help but be slightly apprehensive of being under the thumb of the man who stole so much from him. But despite that, he felt confident; he knew that the goblins would always have his back, no matter what.

-o-o-

**A/N:** And... the sorting feast next! Anyone have anymore opinions on that?

I couldn't help but include Hermione in this chapter; I always knew that I wanted her to be a good character (I kind of see her in me sometimes... at least the book worm part).

Thank you for reading! And especially thank you to those who followed, favorited, and reviewed! This story now has 100+ follows! (112 to be exact at the time of posting.) When I first started this, I never thought that so many people would actually read my work. So THANK YOU!

Chapter posted: October 21st, 2019

Tentative update date: October 28th, 2019


	5. Chapter 4: The Sorting Feast

**Note:** There are some parts in this chapter that are quotes from _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's_ (or Philosopher's, depending where you're from) _Stone_, chapter 7 (eg the sorting hat song, quotes, etc.). I do not own them. If you recognize it, I don't own it.

**Chapter 4: The Sorting Feast**

As soon as the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade Station, hordes of schoolchildren poured out of the train. One voice could be heard loud over the rest: "Firs' years over here! Firs' years over here!"

Harry, Hermione, and the other first years, including the two who had so rudely barged into their compartment while on the train, gathered around the voice. The source of the voice was huge, towering over the children. He had a scraggly beard but a kind smile. He introduced himself as Hagrid, the keeper of the keys and grounds at Hogwarts.

When they reached the shores of the lake, Hagrid announced, "No more than four ter a boat!"

Hermione and Harry got in a boat, joined by an Italian boy who introduced himself as Blaise and a red haired girl who introduced herself as Susan. Hermione and Harry similarly introduced themselves, Harry taking special care not to mention his last name or move his hair so that his scar was visible. Thankfully it was mostly dark outside already, so none of the other two picked up on the fact that he was the Harry Potter. He would like to maintain his anonymity for as long as possible, despite the fact that he knew that the whole school would know who he was before the night was out.

Once they had all settled in to the boat, Harry started to observe the people around him. He noticed that the blond-haired boy and his two henchmen had gotten into the same boat as the red haired boy. The two of them were arguing rather ferociously, insults bouncing back and forth between them. It seemed that their families were mortal enemies or something, as insults about the other's family soon joined the mix. And now they were - wait what? They were arguing about who was better friends with the boy-who-lived? Harry stared at them incredulously. None of them had even actually talked to him, except for the blonde haired guy who had insulted their assumed blood purity, or rather, their assumed lack of it.

If all wizards were like this, Harry wasn't sure whether he could survive with his sanity intact, until winter break. Goblins were so much easier to deal with and understand at times.

Glancing around, Harry noticed that he must have been lost in his thoughts for a while, as everyone had already gotten into their boats. Hagrid must have come to the same conclusion, as with a bellowed "Forward!", the boats set off across the lake.

The ride was peaceful, for the most part. The boats skimmed gently over the smooth crystal clear surface of the lake. The silence was only interrupted by various soft whispers as the boats proceeded across the lake.

However, it seemed that the ride was not fated to be as peaceful as it was at first glance. Midway through the boat ride, a muffled splash rang out in the quiet. It seemed that the red haired boy had been pushed off the boat. Then, a scream rang out through the air. The red haired boy was pulled out of the water by a tentacle and set gently back on the boat.

The rest of the ride was in eerie silence, broken only by the gasps of amazement and wonder when the castle came into view. Even though Harry had never thought that anything could be more beautiful than Gringotts and the underground tunnels that made up his home, he had to admit that Hogwarts came in close second. There was just something about Hogwarts that was so awe-inspiring. Perhaps simply the magic of Hogwarts, embedded in her every stone, that made it so enchanting. Harry thought he heard a breathy laugh at that, but when he looked around, everyone else was disembarking from the boats, whispering quietly about the red-haired boy's misfortune.

-o-o-

Hurriedly catching up with the rest of the group, they continued up the stone steps, where Hagrid knocked on the wooden door. Harry recognized Professor McGonagall as she opened the door.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said.

"Thank you Hagrid. I will take them from here." she replied, her stern visage softening slightly as she caught sight of Harry.

As Professor McGonagall led them to an antechamber, Harry heard the loud voices and excited chattering of the other students right behind the doors. Harry knew that, from his limited knowledge of how the sorting worked, that they would be sorted soon. Nervously, he fingered his dagger that was hooked to his belt. He knew that the goblins didn't care about the sorting, certainly, but wizards did, and the next few minutes would determine the course of his life in the wizarding world.

Starting when the door closed, Harry realized that he must have tuned out what Professor McGonagall said. The whispers around him were focusing on one thing and one thing only - how they would be sorted.

Funny, he thought, Professor McGonagall must not have told them how they were sorted. Thanks to his goblin heritage, Harry of course had no idea how they were going to sorted, but he thought that those of wizarding heritage might have some clue. Apparently, none of them had any idea of what was going to happen. It seemed that their parents and older siblings had not told them.

The red haired boy was going on and on about fighting a troll. Harry mentally scoffed. Trolls were quite easy to take down, once you knew their weakness. They were probably one of the easiest things to defeat, since they were so stupid. Plus, wizards cared too much about their children to throw them into a fight against a troll without any training. They were more likely to shield their children from such harsh things. Goblins, however, believed that it was better to be prepared. As a result of that, Harry had been training in combat since he had been rescued by the goblins.

There was a scream. Harry put his hand on his dagger, scanning for dangers, relaxing when he realized that his classmates had screamed because they had seen ghosts. They had floated through the wall into the room, and were discussing someone by the name of Peeves.

Tuning out their conversation and returning back to his planning, Harry weighed the pros and cons of getting into each house. What he had told to Hermione on the train had been false; he did have preferences, but those were based more on how society would view him and how it would affect his goals rather than which one he personally like the most.

If he were to be sorted into Slytherin, he would be able to begin discussing politics for advancing his beliefs much sooner, as he would likely be sorted into the same house as other influential names. However, he would then be ostracized as a dark wizard by the rest of the wizarding world, lessening his influence and popularity.

That was the funny thing too, about the wizarding world. There really was no such thing as a dark wizard and a light wizard. It was just magic and what you can do with it. For example, the levitation charm was commonly categorized as a so-called "light" spell. However, you could float a person in the air above a cliff and release the spell, sending that person plummeting to their death. Then would it be a "light" spell anymore? But wizards being wizards refused to think about it that way. Apparently it was too much common sense.

The other house also had similar advantages and drawbacks. At the end, it would be up to whatever was sorting him to decide. But if he was choosing a house based on best fit, it would probably be Ravenclaw - he was a bookworm after all!

-o-o-

The door opened. Professor McGonagall walked back in and waved the first years into the Great Hall. Silently, they formed a row, the rest of the school staring at them, observing them, categorizing them. At the front of the great hall was a hat perched on a stool.

As Harry and the rest of his classmates watched. the hat opened its brim and sang:

_"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,  
__But don't judge on what you see,  
__I'll eat myself if you can find  
__A smarter hat than me.  
__You can keep your bowlers black,  
__Your top hats sleek and tall,  
__For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
__And I can cap them all.  
__There's nothing hidden in your head  
__The Sorting Hat can't see,  
__So try me on and I will tell you  
__Where you ought to be.  
__You might belong in Gryffindor,  
__Where dwell the brave at heart,  
__Their daring, nerve and chivalry  
__Set Gryffindors apart;  
__You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
__Where they are just and loyal,  
__Those patient Hufflepuffs are true  
__And unafraid of toil;  
__Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
__If you've a ready mind,  
__Where those of wit and learning,  
__Will always find their kind;  
__Or perhaps in Slytherin  
__You'll make your real friends,  
__Those cunning folk use any means  
__To achieve their ends.  
__So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
__And don't get in a flap!  
__You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
__For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

Harry applauded with everyone else, his mind frantically whirring.

Distantly, he heard Professor McGonagall say, "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted." However, by that point he was no longer listening, absorbed in his own thoughts.

So to be sorted, they had to put on a hat that could read their every thought? This was bad, very bad. Especially if the hat reported its findings to Dumbledore. Harry wondered whether he could just leave right now and go back to the goblins and most importantly of all, not get sorted.

As he analyzed the advantages and disadvantages of such an action, Harry realized that leaving Hogwarts would make him look suspicious and look like he had something to hide. And while that was the truth, it would negatively affect his plans for the wizarding world. So he would be sorted after all, hoping and praying that the sorting hat was under some sort of secrecy oath and wouldn't report his every thought back to Albus Dumbledore.

As he came to that conclusion, Harry heard Professor McGonagall announce, "Potter, Harry!"

Striding confidently, although he did not feel confident, to the stool, Harry placed the hat on his head. He heard a little voice in his head go, "Hmm... interesting... Yes, very interesting indeed."

"Interesting how?" Harry sent a mental question to the other presence in his head.

"Your mind is possibly one of the most interesting ones that I have ever sorted," the sorting hat replied as it idly viewed Harry's memories.

"Wait, how did you get through my occlumency barriers?" Harry demanded.

The sorting hat laughed. "The founders themselves enchanted me. How can I not? But getting back to my original purpose, let's sort you, shall we?"

"Sure," Harry replied, "But may I ask you a question?"

"You just asked me one," came the sorting hat's response, "But yes, you may ask another one."

"When you say the founders enchanted you, you existed when they lived, correct? Which will mean you know what happened to the sword of Ragnuk the First! So, where is it?" questioned Harry.

"Well, after Godric acquired the sword from Ragnuk the First - "

"That scoundrel!" Harry exclaimed angrily, "He stole the sword from Ragnuk the First; he didn't buy it!"

"And I never claimed that Godric bought it," said the hat evenly, "But anyways, on his passing, the sword was stored away such that only a true Gryffindor can claim it."

"And the goblins don't get their rightful property back?" Harry demanded.

The sorting hat sighed. "Let's get back to the sorting, shall we? You have the ambition of a Slytherin, the loyalty of a Hufflepuff, the courage of a Gryffindor, and a love of learning that surpasses Rowena herself. You really would fit well with any of the houses. But, I think it is in Ravenclaw where you will flourish. Let it be RAVENCLAW!" the sorting hat shouted the last word so that the entire hall could hear it.

Then, just as Harry was pulling the hat off his head, he heard the sorting hat mutter, "I suppose it is time for property to be returned to its rightful owners. Besides, I am technically giving it to a true Gryffindor."

There was a dull thunk, and Harry's extraordinarily quick reflexes were the only thing that prevented the sword from giving him a concussion. Gripping the sword carefully, Harry examined the sword, oblivious to the stares and whispers around him. Could it be-? Yes it was the sword of Ragnuk the First!

Finally looking up, Harry saw that everyone, including the teachers, was staring at him. Quickly, Harry drew his dagger from its sheath and muttered a spell. A sheath that could fit the sword formed, and Harry smoothly plucked it from the air and attached it to his belt. Smoothly sliding both blades into their respective sheaths, Harry walked towards the cluster of blue that was the Ravenclaw table.

The entire Great Hall was silent, staring at him, until Hermione, who had been sorted into Ravenclaw before him, burst into applause. The entire Great Hall followed, dying down when Harry took his seat next to Hermione.

-o-o-

The sorting continued, but Harry continued to ponder the ramifications of what had just happened. Harry couldn't wait to write to Firedagger about it; he would be extremely happy that the Sword of Ragnuk the First would be returned to its rightful owners.

Food appeared on the tables with a pop, startling Harry out of his thoughts. At the wonderful smell of the food, Harry began to dig in. All around him, his fellow Ravenclaws were whispering about him, their new favorite topic. As he listened in, he realized that their beliefs were entirely incorrect, but he didn't correct them. Not yet, anyway.

After desert, Dumbledore began his announcement, "Ahem- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well. I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

He had better be kidding, Harry thought darkly. Why would Dumbledore store anything in the school that would lead kids to a very painful death? And besides, just announcing the fact would likely get a handful of idiots to explore the corridor anyways.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" Dumbledore continued, seemingly unaware of the whispers around him. "Everyone pick their favorite tune, and off we go!"

What followed was the worst, most tortuous, and most unproductive 10 minutes in his life. Harry was tempted to slit Dumbledore's throat for forcing that monstrosity that he called a song on their poor, bleeding, ears. When Dumbledore meant any tune, he really did mean any tune.

At long last, the song came to an end, and Dumbledore sent them all off to bed.

-o-o-

Following the sea of blue, Harry climbed up the stairs to the Ravenclaw tower. He paused for a second to admire the view of the majestic common room. Bookshelves lined the walls, and the ceiling opened upwards for a view of the sky.

Harry continued up to his bed, noting that he was sharing a room with Anthony Goldstein. The other three boys in his year must have a separate room, Harry deduced as he climbed into bed and immediately fell asleep. It had been an exhausting day.

-o-o-

**A/N:** The sorting! Yay! At the end I went with Ravenclaw, but I do like the idea of "Hogwarts" house... maybe for the next story I write. Not sure where the sword idea came from, but when I started to type, it just came out. *shrugs*

I did finish the chapter a day before I thought I would, so I'm super happy! Now I just need to work on my lab report...

Thank you for reading! Please review!

Next chapter will be Harry's first week of classes... Potions class will be fun to write... *cackles evilly*

Chapter posted: October 27th, 2019

Tentative update date: November 4th, 2019


	6. Chapter 5: Friends and Foes

**Chapter 5: Friends and Foes**

Stroking his beard while sucking pensively on his lemon drop, Albus Dumbledore pondered on Harry Potter and his various plans regarding him. At least young Harry hadn't been sorted into Slytherin; that would have severely messed up his plans. At least with him in Ravenclaw his plans were still salvageable.

-o-o-

The next morning, it took a few moments for Harry to realize that he was at Hogwarts now. The events of the last night came rushing back to him. Checking the time, Harry realized that he had slept far longer than he had intended to, as it was 7am and classes started at 9am. He must have been more exhausted than he had thought.

He would need to write Firedagger a letter immediately explaining what had happened last night as well as asking what to do with the sword. It was definitely too precious to transport by owl, but Harry was sure that the goblin community would want it back as soon as possible, considering that it had been missing for almost a thousand years.

Nodding decisively, Harry changed into school uniform and walked out the door to his dorm room, making sure he had his dagger and of course, the sword of Ragnuk the first. He didn't plan on leaving it out of his sight, at least until he had it delivered back to the goblins. Greed was a powerful motivator, and he wouldn't put it past anyone to steal the sword.

As he was heading out, he realized that his fellow dorm mate, Anthony Goldstein, if he remembered correctly, was not yet awake. Harry decided that he might as well be friendly and wake him up. He had to make friends eventually, and his dorm mate was a good place to start.

As Harry gently shook him, the other boy mumbled, "Let me sleep a little longer, Mom."

Chuckling, Harry replied, "I'm not your mom, and if you sleep any longer, you'll be late for breakfast."

"Wha- oh!" exclaimed the other boy, sitting straight up, fully awake now, "Sorry about that," he smiled sheepishly.

"No problem. I figured that I might as well try to befriend my dorm mate - especially if I'm going to be rooming with him for at least the next year. Wouldn't want you to slit my neck in my sleep, after all," Harry responded with complete seriousness, not a trace of amusement in his face.

Anthony stared at him for a moment, before bursting out laughing. Harry didn't laugh. The room faded into awkward silence.

"So uh- hi, I'm Anthony Goldstein," he said trying to break the silence.

"Harry Potter. Pleased to meet you."

"Pretty sure everyone in the wizarding world knows who you are," Anthony replied, "What was that last night? With the sword and everything? Are those stories actually true?"

Harry sighed, "Can you keep a secret? Not forever, mind, just until I'm ready for certain people to find out."

"Sure."

"Okay, so those stories that you mentioned? Those are completely false. Never did any of those things - never rescued a princess, never killed a dragon, never saved the life of an old lady. None of it," Harry said, "Although I did fight a goblin," he mumbled, mostly to himself.

"Okay..." Anthony said, "So where did you grow up?"

"And this is the part that you will need to keep a secret," Harry said, waiting for Anthony's nod to continue, "I didn't grow up with a wizarding family like the Daily Prophet likes to proclaim. I grew up with goblins. How I ended up with them is a story for another day."

Anthony nodded, sensing that Harry didn't want to discuss this part of his past and not wanting to press too hard. Instead, he asked, "So you grew up with goblins? What was that like? Is that what the sword thing was about?"

"Yes I grew up with goblins," Harry confirmed, "I spent my childhood being treated just like any other goblin juvenile. Although, there was always a lot of whispering and staring; goblins and wizards don't traditionally get along. My hope is to change that."

"Sure you weren't meant to be a Slytherin? That sounds like an ambitious goal," Anthony teased, before becoming more serious, "So that explains why you were able to ignore everyone."

"What?"

"Your ability to ignore everyone after your sorting. You were all anyone would talk about," Anthony answered.

"Oh I guess I wasn't paying attention," Harry replied, "I was a bit absorbed in my thoughts last night."

"The sword?" Anthony questioned.

"Yeah."

"What's so special about the sword anyways?" he asked, "The Gryffindors looked particularly murderous last night."

"They would," Harry replied, muttering under his breath, before answering, "It's the sword of Ragnuk the First."

Anthony stared at him blankly.

"Wizards also know it as the Sword of Gryffindor," Harry clarified.

"Ahh..."

"Godric Gryffindor stole the sword from Ragnuk the First, the goblin king at the time. It actually caused a goblin-wizard war. When he died, he entrusted its care to the Sorting Hat, telling it to give it to a true Gryffindor. I argued with the Sorting Hat for most of my Sorting, and it ended up giving it to me. I think it figured that it might as well be time to return something that was stolen over a thousand years ago, even though I'm not a true Gryffindor," Harry explained, giving an impromptu history lesson.

"I see," Anthony replied, "But what was that thing with the sheath for the sword? Was it wandless magic or something?"

Shaking his head, Harry answered, "Wizards think that you can only use magic with wands and not through any other magical conduits. You see this dagger?" Harry pulled out his dagger from the sheath where it rested, "That's the conduit for goblin magic. Goblins don't receive their personal one until their eleventh birthday, but they do learn how to use and handle one before then. I was actually quite surprised when I received one of my own; regardless of how well accepted in the goblin community I am, I'm not actually goblin."

"Yeah," Anthony said chuckling, "I can just imagine the Daily Prophet headlines: 'Boy-Who-Lived a Goblin in Disguise?'" Both boys laughed at that.

"So that's how you created the sheath? Goblin magic?" Anthony questioned.

"Yup," Harry confirmed, "You know, I'm actually surprised at how well you're taking this. I didn't think that wizards would be so accepting of the fact that I grew up in goblin society."

"Most people probably aren't," Anthony agreed, "But you see, my mom's a muggle, so I was raised to be accepting of different people of different cultural backgrounds."

"I see," Harry said, "Kinda wish all wizards were like that."

Anthony shrugged, "I think that's the kind of thing that only happens in your dreams. Pureblood wizards are as close-minded as they can get."

"Fair enough," Harry agreed, "I'll meet you in the common room and we can walk to breakfast together?"

"Sure," Anthony replied, "I'll be down in a few minutes."

Harry went down to the steps to the common room, happy that he had made a friend.

-o-o-

As soon as Harry made it down into the common room, he was swarmed by his housemates, both in his year and upperclassmen. They all started talking, and Harry couldn't exactly make out what everyone was saying. However, what he could understand went something like this:

"Good to meet-"

"the sword last night?"

"-him! The one and only-"

"belong in Ravenclaw?"

"gone to Gryffindor"

"wandless magic!"

"Uhh..." Harry started to speak.

"Quiet!" one of the prefects shouted. The shouting slowly subsided.

"So, hi. My name is Harry Potter, but you probably know that already," there were some chuckles in the audience, "Yes, I'm in Ravenclaw, and I look forward to getting to know my fellow housemates."

With that, Harry stepped to the side and started browsing the books.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted as she came up to him.

"Hi Hermione," Harry said with a smile, glad to see a familiar face in the craziness that had become the Ravenclaw common room.

"Why didn't you tell me you were the Harry Potter?" Hermione demanded.

"Would that have made a difference?" Harry questioned.

"No..."

"Exactly," Harry replied, satisfied that he had made his point, "So how are you liking Ravenclaw so far?" he asked, changing the subject.

"It's been good. I'm not the only nerd anymore!" Hermione answered.

Harry was about to reply when they were rudely interrupted by two girls who looked to be a year or two older than them. They elbowed Hermione out of the way.

"Potter," one of them started, "How on earth did you do wandless magic?"

"Excuse me!" Hermione interrupted, "I was in the middle of a conversation!"

"No one cares what you think, mudblood," the other girl sneered.

At that word, the whole room became quiet. The temperature dropped a few degrees and quite a few people were sending glares at the two girls.

In the silence of the room, a squeaky voice rang out, "Ms. Edgecombe, you know that word is not allowed to be used. 50 points from Ravenclaw and detention with Mr. Filch for a month."

"But Professor Flitwick..." the other girl tried to argue.

The professor raised his eyebrow at her, as if daring her to argue. She fell silent.

"Now, for you first years who don't know me, I'm Professor Flitwick. I'm the head of house for Ravenclaw. If you ever have any problems, my door is open. If no one has any immediate questions, I will pass out class schedules during breakfast. Mr. Potter, I would like to speak with you in my office."

Harry nodded, Firedagger having told him that Professor Flitwick would be of great help. Unbeknownst to most of the wizarding population, Professor Flitwick was half goblin. He followed the professor out of the common room and into his office.

-o-o-

"Now, sit, Mr. Potter," Professor Flitwick gestured to the seat in front of the desk, "I assume Firedagger has informed you of my role and my parentage?"

"Yes, he told me that if I ever needed to have a message conveyed securely to him, you would be able to do so," Harry answered.

"Yes," he confirmed, "And that goes for anything you might need help with, including support against the headmaster. As your head of house, I'm obliged to support you anyway, but I'm just putting that out there. Anything you may need to help with, come to me."

"Of course Professor Flitwick. Thank you," Harry replied, "Do you mind telling Firedagger about what happened yesterday with the Sorting Hat and the Sword of Ragnuk the First?"

"Certainly. I will relay his answer to that later today."

"Thank you again Professor Flitwick," Harry responded politely.

"Not a problem, not a problem. Now go on, you have breakfast to get to!" he said, shooing Harry out the door.

-o-o-

Once alone in the dorm room, Anthony allowed himself to show his true feelings about Harry Potter. His plan was going well. With the help of the Trust Potion that he had dribbled into his mouth as he slept, Harry had trusted him enough to reveal how he had spent his childhood and what had really happened with the Sword of Gryffindor.

Anthony couldn't wait to report back to his parents. They would be ever-so-pleased that their son was rooming with Harry Potter. It would make his plans so much easier to accomplish. Perhaps he would be able to move them along even quicker.

-o-o-

Professor Flitwick hummed cheerfully as he penned a letter to Firedagger. Harry Potter was in his house! Not only did that mean he had won the staff betting pool (it was gold and gold is good), he would be better able to support him.

As a half-goblin, he had retained his ties to the goblin realm in secret. Most wizards had no clue that he actually half-goblin. He had gotten a job at Hogwarts- not many employers had been willing to overlook his questionable ancestry.

Teaching had become his passion, and he would be able to teach Harry Potter! Oh, was he excited! His mother, the late Lily Potter, had been one of his favorite and most gifted students. She had been pursuing a Charms mastery when they went into hiding. Filius could already see hints of his mother in him, despite the fact that he mostly looked like his father.

Finishing and signing the letter, Professor Flitwick put it in the box inside the hidden drawer of his desk. The box was covered in runes and would automatically transport anything placed inside it to the corresponding one on Firedagger's desk. There was no chance of anyone intercepting the letter and it was a totally secure way of transporting things.

Sighing, the professor got up out of his chair and hurried down to the Great Hall. He still had to pass out class schedules. The first day was always tiring.

-o-o-

**A/N: **My original plans for this chapter did not include all this. I was going to just write about classes, but then Harry was like, "I wanna talk to Anthony!" and then that entire scene slipped out. Then the thing with the Ravenclaws happened and of course, the slight plot twist at the end there.

Next chapter will be Hogwarts classes for real (I hope - I already have the scene with Snape written out.) I might have to split it into two chapters, depending on length.

I'm going to try to update every Monday, but that may change, depending on homework and other real life stuff.

As always, thanks for reading! Please review and tell me what you think!

Chapter posted: November 4th, 2019

Tentative update date: November 11th, 2019


	7. Chapter 6A: A Hectic First Day Part 1

**Chapter 6A: A Hectic First Day Part 1**

Harry and the rest of the Ravenclaws made their way down to the Great Hall on the first day of school. He chatted amicably with Hermione, while Anthony walked slightly behind them.

When they reached the Great Hall, Harry sat next to Hermione, although many of the other Ravenclaws tried to claim that spot. However, a fierce glare from Harry was all it took to keep the less brave ones, or the smarter ones, depending on your perspective, away. That, and the fact that Harry was armed with his dagger and the sword.

All through breakfast Harry was hounded about the sword, his upbringing, his sorting, and pretty much every facet of his personal life. It was quite frankly, very annoying. Now he understood what Anthony meant. He hadn't quite figured out how he had managed to tune all that out last night.

He put it down to him being distracted about the sword, and vowed to be more vigilant than ever, especially with the food that he ate. Already, his dagger had been flashing different shades of blue as he reached for the pumpkin juice, meaning someone was trying to sneak mind control potions into it.

Sighing, Harry decided to drink tea instead. He didn't really like pumpkin juice much anyways; it was too sickly sweet for his tastes.

Personally, Harry was suspecting that Dumbledore had something to do with that. It might explain why he had so many supporters. After all, once you were fed loyalty potions for seven years, especially since they were in their formative years, you were pretty much loyal for life. The only place that was capable of flushing such potions were the goblins. Thief's Downfall, which all carts went through on their way to the lower vaults, would flush that potion out. That must have been why the few families that were still against Dumbledore were from wealthy families, with their Gringotts vaults being high security.

As they were finishing up breakfast, Professor Flitwick interrupted a particularly harsh interrogation from a fifth year as he passed out the class schedules. Harry was quite glad that he could escape from that rather uncomfortable conversation.

"Here you are, Mr. Potter," Professor Flitwick said, "And your message had been delivered."

"Thank you Professor Flitwick," Harry responded, taking his schedule and glancing it over. He noticed that he had Potions, History of Magic, and Charms that day.

Suddenly glad of his goblin enchanted bag, he calmly ate the rest of his breakfast while the rest of the Ravenclaw first years scarfed their breakfasts down and raced up the stairs to the dorms to get their books. With his bag, he could fit all of the books he needed for his classes and still have room to spare. Plus, it barely weighed more than a gram. Noticing that Hermione was still sitting at the table, he asked her, "Don't you need to get your books for class?"

"No, I have everything," she replied cheerfully.

"How?" Harry questioned, bewildered.

"I asked one of the upper years, and the schedule for the first years is always the same every year. So I brought all of my books that I'll need for class today to breakfast," Hermione answered.

"Smart," Harry commented.

"What about you?" Hermione returned.

"Goblin enchanted bag," Harry responded, "Though technically wizards could create one too; it would just be far less organized."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"This bag is specifically made for the storage of books and has an auto-sorting feature that will allow you to easily pull out any books related to that topic, or a specific book if you know the title. Wizards have a charm that will allow them to make their bags larger, but when you put things in, it's just a huge mess inside and impossible to find anything," Harry explained.

"Interesting," Hermione said, "How might one go about purchasing a bag like that?"

Harry nearly choked on his food. "They're... Not exactly for sale to the general population," he said, shifting uncomfortably.

"Well then, how do you have one?" Hermione demanded.

Harry sighed. "First of all, they're a goblin invention, so pretty much no wizard would ever buy one. Second of all, this was custom made especially for me."

"How did you get goblins to make you one? I heard they are notoriously grumpy," Hermione asked.

"I'll tell you later. The Great Hall is not the place for such conversations," Harry answered.

"Oh ok," Hermione replied, sounding slightly dejected.

"We should probably head to Potions," Harry commented, after a few moments of silence.

Nodding, Hermione got up and the two of them headed out the Great Hall together.

-o-o-

Harry and Hermione arrived early for Potions class. The rest of his fellow Ravenclaws arrived a minute later, having heard from the upper years that Professor Snape was a rather cantankerous and surly teacher. When they reached the Potions classroom, they found that the door was locked. They waited outside, quietly chatting amongst themselves, when the Hufflepuffs arrived.

As this was their first class with the Hufflepuffs, introductions went around. Harry ended up standing next to a girl named Susan Bones.

"Any relation to Amelia Bones?" he asked her.

"She's my auntie," Susan answered quizzically.

"She's a good woman," he said.

Susan looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?

"She's been very helpful, Probably the only person in the entire ministry not swayed by money," Harry elaborated.

"I see. Do I want to ask?" replied Susan, knowing that there were many who were against her aunt's anti-corruption stance. Anyone who thought that her aunt had been helpful must have been trying to dig up bones that someone didn't want to come out.

"You can ask. But I may not answer," Harry responded with a smirk.

Susan was about to respond when the door to the classroom opened.

"Well, what are you doing chatting?" a voice growled, "Get in here!"

Shrugging, Harry entered the classroom, the rest of the Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs following behind him. They took their seats, Harry sitting next to Anthony, and Hermione sitting with another Ravenclaw girl who, if he remembered her name correctly, was named Padma.

Professor Snape began to take attendance, pausing slightly after Harry's name to sneer, "Ah yes, our newest celebrity."

Internally, Harry's mind raced, trying to figure out a plausible reason for why Professor Snape had singled him and his status as a celebrity in the wizarding world out. Externally though, he kept a straight face and did not react at all.

Professor Snape seemed almost... disappointed that he did not react, but continued calling out attendance anyway.

Once the last person had answered, "Present!", he continued, "You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making. As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

With that positive note, he turned to Harry, "Potter! What would you get if you added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"A sleeping potion that can be used to fake one's death," Harry answered, having learned this when he was 6. It was covered in one of the first classes Harry ever took; goblins took things like killing rather seriously.

"Where would you look if I told you to find a bezoar?" Professor Snape fired at him.

"In my pocket," Harry replied automatically, before elaborating, "A bezoar can act as an antidote to most poisons, and can be found in the stomach of a goat."

The professor's forehead wrinkled as if he had spotted something unpleasant. "What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"There is none, sir," Harry answered, "It is also known as aconite, and is a rather deadly poison."

Professor Snape stared at him for a little, as if he was trying to make sense of an unusual species. When Harry raised his gaze to look him in the eyes, he turned away, sharply gesturing at the board and barking, "You are brewing the Cure for Boils today. Instructions are on the board, ingredients are in the cupboard. Begin!" Then, after a slight pause, he added, "Potter, stay after class."

The rest of Potions was filled with hustling and bustling as everyone frantically tried to slice, dice, measure, and stir, rushing to get the potion done before the period was over. Only Harry seemed unfazed and completed his potion almost leisurely. Even though he had never brewed this particular potion before, as goblins had no need of it, he had brewed potions that were far more difficult and complicated.

Goblin society was very much a warrior society, and poisonings were not uncommon. Most goblin children spent their first few years of schooling in potions learning how to brew poisons and their antidotes. Only after that did they brew other potions that wizards usually tended to concentrate on first.

Most poisons were far more delicate than this potion. If the slices in one specific potion that he once had to brew were even off by a millimeter, the poison would turn from something deadly fatal to something harmless. Having come from that type of schooling, this particular potion was a piece of cake for Harry.

Filling one phial of the potion for grading, Harry decided to save the rest of the potion. He scooped the remainder of the potion into several enchanted phials which had preservation charms on them, specifically for the preservation of potions. He then put them in a special compartment in his bag. You never knew when something might come in handy. Professor Snape's eyes flicked towards him as he did so, but no comment was made.

The bell rang and everyone packed up, hurrying out of the classroom. No one really liked to be under Professor Snape's foreboding stare for long. Soon enough, it was just Harry and Professor Snape left in the classroom.

Harry busied himself with cleaning up his workstation as he waited for Professor Snape to speak. When he was done, he looked up and found Professor Snape staring at him, studying him.

"You have your mother's eyes," Professor Snape spoke.

"I'm sorry?" Harry was bewildered. Professor Snape asked him to stay behind after class to tell him he had his mother's eyes?

"I think she would've been proud of you," Professor Snape continued, "She was something of a potions prodigy as well."

"You knew my mum?" Harry asked. No one had told him anything about his birth parents before. The goblins had known little to nothing about his parents, only having a few pictures and a copy of their bank statements. Swordclaw had remembered his mother as being rather polite, for a witch. But that was it. Aunt Petunia had certainly not told him anything.

"Yes," he replied.

"Will you- will you tell me about her?" Harry asked.

The professor sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He muttered something indistinct under his breath and said, "Come back this evening after dinner and I'll tell you about her. You should hurry to your next class before you become late."

"Okay," Harry replied, smiling, as he exited the classroom, "Thank you professor!"

-o-o-

The Ravenclaws entered the History of Magic classroom, with Harry bringing up the rear, having ran the way. Hermione asked him what Professor Snape had wanted to talk to him about, but Harry told her that he'll tell her later.

They were soon joined by the Slytherins, who were coming from Transfiguration. They seemed to be lead by the rather distasteful blond boy who had so rudely barged into Harry and Hermione's train compartment. He marched right in front of where they were sitting and drawled, "You'll find that there are some in the wizarding world that are better than others. There is no need for you, as the so-proclaimed saviour of the wizarding world, to be hanging out with the dregs of wizarding society." At this he glanced at Hermione. He then stuck his hand out in front of Harry, as if expecting him to shake it.

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Harry questioned with faux politeness. Internally, he was brimming with hatred; these were the people who believed that anyone who wasn't 10 generations pureblood (also, cough cough, ridiculously inbred) did not belong in wizarding society.

The boy yanked his hand away as if grievously insulted. "How have you not heard of my name, you ignorant prat? Everyone knows who I am! Wait until I tell my father - the saviour of the wizarding world, not knowing who the Malfoy heir is!" he screeched angrily.

Deciding to further rile Malfoy up, Harry exclaimed, "Oh! You should have just said you were the Malfoy heir! I know about you! You're the guy who threw a tantrum at his eleventh birthday party because he only received 103 presents!"

Everyone burst out laughing at that. Draco turned red, furious, before marching to an empty desk on the other side of the room from Harry and sitting down.

At exactly the start of class, a ghost floated through the wall and started lecturing in a monotone voice about the goblin rebellion of 1752.

"Lies!" Harry exclaimed loudly, as Professor Binns told the class of Urg the Ugly, who brutally massacred hundreds of wizards.

"Excuse me?" Professor Binns said, his lecture interrupted, "I teach facts and facts only. Now sit down, Mr. Pickles, and that will be 10 points from Slytherin."

A huge uproar erupted after this. The Slytherins angry that they had lost 10 points for something they didn't do, while the Ravenclaws were demanding to know whether or not what Harry was saying was true.

"The goblin-wizard war of 1752, or as it is known to wizards, the goblin rebellion of 1752, was fought by wizards and goblins over the sovereignty of Gringotts," Harry explained, "A wizard man brutally murdered the wife and children of Urg the Ugly when they were out walking in Diagon Alley. Urg the Ugly, quite rightfully, brought them to justice in goblin courts, and the man was sentenced to death. The wizarding government strongly disagreed with this punishment and the two nations went to war. Urg the Ugly lead the charge against the ministry, dying from battle injuries, but from that, the goblins were able to negotiate a treaty that made Gringotts a sovereign nation. He is a hero in the eyes of Gringotts, and you will not bad-mouth him!" By this point, Harry was yelling rather passionately.

Gone was Professor Binns' standard demeanor of uncaring. He was absolutely furious, "How dare you speak to me that way!" he yelled, "I fought against the goblins, and I know personally how bloodthirsty they can be! My own father died at their hand! And what are you going to do to me if I tell the truth as is? Besides, you're a wizard, not a goblin!" the last word was sneered with great derision.

Smiling, Harry retorted, "On the contrary, Professor, I consider myself a goblin in all but blood," he said, "And as for what I would do, if you were still alive, you would be facing my sword in combat. However, it seems that you are dead, so I shall instead banish your spirit from this realm."

With that, he drew the Sword of Ragnuk the First and with a grand sweeping motion, cut the ghost across the middle. Before he could even register what was happening, the ghost was already fading. As if nothing had happened, Harry calmly slid the sword back in its holster and headed towards the door. Before he could exit the room though, Professor Dumbledore appeared, huffing and puffing as if he had just sprinted the distance from his office.

"What is going on here?" Professor Dumbledore exclaimed, once he had caught his breath, "My monitors alerted me to the use of necromancy in this classroom."

Laughing, Harry replied, "Nothing much, Headmaster, just our dear Professor Binns leaving this plane of existence." At the Headmaster's furious face he continued, "I imagine that you are quite worried about hiring a new history teacher. Not to worry though, I'm sure that you have plenty of funds for that; after all, you have been pocketing the salary allocated for the history teacher ever since you became headmaster."

On that note, Harry skipped merrily out of the classroom, whistling joyfully. There was no need to sit around in a classroom for which there was no teacher for. Plus, he had a library to explore.

Hermione hesitated slightly before hurrying after him. She didn't like skipping class much, but her curiosity was overpowering. She wanted Harry to answer her questions that he kept on putting off!

-o-o-

**A/N: **Harry's first week was meant to be only one chapter long, but then stuff happened. So, it is being broken up into several parts. Don't worry; not all of his weeks will be like this. I'm trying to focus the story in on things that changed as a result of him being raised by goblins. And a lot of stuff about his first classes changed.

I eventually had to break this chapter up into two parts so that I could get this chapter out today. (Plus, if I hadn't broken up the chapter, it would have been extraordinarily long.) The second part of this chapter (Chapter 6B) will be up sometime later this week, probably by Thursday. I've already written some of it, but I still have a significant amount left to write and lots of studying to do. :D

Thank you for reading! I'm in absolute awe over how many people are reading, favoriting, and following my story! Please review and tell me what you think about this chapter (or the story in general)!

Chapter posted: November 11th, 2019

Tentative update date: November 14th, 2019


	8. Chapter 6B: A Hectic First Day Part 2

**Chapter 6B: A Hectic First Day Part 2**

_Previously: _

_Laughing, Harry replied, "Nothing much, Headmaster, just our dear Professor Binns leaving this plane of existence." At the Headmaster's furious face he continued, "I imagine that you are quite worried about hiring a new history teacher. Not to worry though, I'm sure that you have plenty of funds for that; after all, you have been pocketing the salary allocated for the history teacher ever since you became headmaster."_

_On that note, Harry skipped merrily out of the classroom, whistling joyfully. There was no need to sit around in a classroom for which there was no teacher for. Plus, he had a library to explore._

_Hermione hesitated slightly before hurrying after him. She didn't like skipping class much, but her curiosity was overpowering. She wanted Harry to answer her questions that he kept on putting off!_

-o-o-

Together, the two of them hurried down the halls, Hermione following Harry.

"Where are we going?" she asked, once she had caught up to him.

"The library. Hogwarts supposedly has the largest library on earth. I want to see whether or not that's true," Harry answered.

"Good plan," Hermione replied, "Now can you tell me how you got the goblins to make your bag for you? Does it have anything to do with what happened with Professor Binns? And what did Professor Snape wanted to talk to you about? You didn't get in trouble, did you?"

"I'll tell you in the library," Harry promised.

The rest of the walk was silent, except for the portraits on the walls occasionally giving them directions.

-o-o-

Once they arrived at the library, Hermione was stunned for a moment by the sheer enormity of the books in the library. Harry, on the other hand, was surprised, but not for the same reason.

"That's a lot of books," Hermione breathed.

Harry laughed, "You think this is a lot of books? Gringotts has a collection ten times this size. But still, it is a rather sizable library," he said, careful to keep his voice quiet.

Harry lead them through the bookshelves filled with books until they reached the very back of the library, which contained a few study tables that were covered in dust.

"Spill," Hermione said as she sat down in a chair.

Harry pulled out his dagger and waved it, muttering a few words. The dust vanished. "There," he said, "Now we won't be overheard."

"Spill," Hermione repeated.

"Okay, um..." Harry started, "Yes, yes, my mum, and no."

"What?" Hermione asked, confused.

"The answers to the questions you asked me in the hallway," Harry explained.

Hermione thought back to what had happened fifteen minutes ago, "So what relationship do you have with the goblins anyways?"

"Promise me you'll keep this a secret until I say otherwise?" Harry asked her.

"Of course," Hermione promised.

"Did you drink pumpkin juice this morning?" Harry questioned, seemingly out of the blue.

"You mean that sickly sweet thing? Of course not. My parents are dentists," she replied, "But what does that have anything to do with anything?"

"Good. There are loyalty potions in those things. Don't drink it," he answered, before continuing with a sigh, "The goblins at Gringotts are essentially my adoptive family."

"I thought the books all said you grew up with a loving wizarding family?" Hermione asked.

Harry raised an eyebrow, "I know what the books say. But I"ll like to think that I know my life better than the author of some book."

"Fair enough. So what was growing up with goblins like?" she queried.

"Far better than what Dumbledore had originally planned for me," he answered, "I was treated like any normal goblin. Of course, I was bullied at first, with goblin-wizarding relations being what they are, but it got better once I gained their respect."

"Okay... Is that how you were able to brew the potion so well?" she asked.

"Yes, it was rather simple compared to other potions that I've learned to brew," he replied.

The questioning continued. Hermione was curious to learn about every facet of goblin life. She was especially curious about the goblin education system and the sword of Ragnuk the First. Well, to be fair, she curious about everything. Harry asked her questions about muggles too. It was something he was rather curious about, seeing that was the life he could have led. Eventually, Harry had to promise to answer the rest of her questions later, saying that they had to go to lunch, but reminding her that she couldn't tell anyone yet.

-o-o-

After a quick lunch, they headed for Charms class. This time, they were paired with the Gryffindors.

"Hey Harry!" he heard someone yell as soon as he entered the classroom, "Over here!"

It was the red haired boy from the train yesterday. "I'm sorry," he said, trying to be polite and not make too many enemies yet, "I don't think we've been introduced yet."

"I'm Ron Weasley," he answered, "I'm going to be your best friend. I've decided that you deserve to be forgiven about being sorted into the house of nerds. Everyone knows that you are a true Gryffindor anyway. How else would you get the sword of Gryffindor?"

Harry's voice turned cold, "I never asked nor do I desire your so-called forgiveness. And I don't believe that we are best friends. Secondly, it's the sword of Ragnuk the First, and the sorting hat gave it to me after deciding that it should be returned to its rightful owners."

"What?" asked Ron, having been lost about halfway through Harry's little speech.

It was at this time that Professor Flitwick walked in, "Take a seat everyone, please!" he exclaimed.

Professor Flitwick took roll call next, before diving into a lecture about the intricacies of charms theory. Of course, it only touched on the very basics, but it still made Harry's head hurt. Wizarding magic was so different from goblin magic!

Before Harry knew it, Professor Flitwick was wrapping up his lecture with, "Theory is of course, a fundamental part of Charms. You can't possibly learn any spell without knowing the foundations behind it. We might get to practicals by late October, perhaps early November."

As the rest of the class filed out of the classroom, Hermione whispering that she'll meet him outside, Harry remained behind as he wished to speak with Professor Flitwick. As the Gryifindor boys walked past him, he heard Ron Weasley loudly proclaiming, "Of course Harry's my best friend!"

Deciding that Weasley would be a problem he could deal with later, he turned his attention to Professor Flitwick.

"Have you received a response from Firedagger yet?" Harry asked.

"Yes," Professor Flitwick replied, "He says that you are to wear it as a badge of honor, at least until the winter holidays. When you go back to Gringotts then, he will discuss further possibilities with you."

Harry nodded. "Professor Flitwick, during breakfast today, I noticed that there were mind control potions in the pumpkin juice?"

"Probably the Headmaster's work," he muttered.

"Yes, that's what I had thought." Harry agreed, "I didn't drink any pumpkin juice though."

"Yes, but nevertheless, we must be cautious. I will retrieve a stock of Purging Potions next time I go to Gringotts." Professor Flitwick replied.

Purging Potions were a powerful potion, a goblin invention. Essentially, they purged any and all mind-controlling or mind-altering substances from you. Originally they were invented to cure goblin hangovers, but a goblin potion-maker had recently altered the potion recipe to purge potions as well. It would also work on most poisons. In short, it was a powerful potion to have in your arsenal in a battle against Dumbledore.

"Thank you, Professor Flitwick," Harry said.

"Not a problem!" he replied, "You should get going before your classmates wonder where you are."

With a slight bow, Harry exited the classroom. He found Hermione waiting right outside, and together they continued to the library. Because how else were Ravenclaws going to spend a free afternoon?

-o-o-

After dinner, Harry separated from the rest of his housemates, who were all heading to the library once again. Instead, he headed down to the dungeons. When he reached the potions classroom, he knocked on the door.

"Enter!" came a gruff voice. Harry entered as Professor Snape looked up from the pile of papers he was grading, "Mr. Potter," he greeted.

"Good evening, Professor Snape," Harry replied, looking around the classroom properly. He hadn't gotten the chance to that morning.

"Sit down," he said, nodding at the chair..

Harry sat, "What was my mum like?" he asked after they had sat in silence for a few moments, the only sound being the scritch-scratch of Professor Snape's quill.

Professor Snape raised an eyebrow, finally laying down the quill and laying aside the papers, "She was the kindest, bravest, smartest, and most beautiful women I have ever met. Where did you grow up?" he fired back, suddenly changing the topic.

"What?" Harry was taken aback.

"I'm a Slytherin, Mr. Potter," he said, "I don't just give away valuable information for nothing."

Harry thought hard. Professor Snape was one of the unknown variables that Firedagger had warned him about. No one knew whose side he was on. However, thinking back, he thought he remembered his mum mentioning his parents' will. It hadn't really stood out to him back then, with so many other... interesting things in the will, but now that he thought back to it, maybe it did show whose side he was on. Or maybe it didn't.

Harry decided to give him a little information - a bit of a test. Dumbledore would undoubtedly put the clues together soon and figure it out anyway, so it wasn't really that valuable. However, he would be able to find out whether or not Snape could be trusted.

Taking a deep breath, Harry answered, "I grew up with goblins."

"What?"

"I grew up with goblins," Harry repeated, enunciating each word carefully as if speaking to a toddler.

"I thought that the Headmaster said you grew up with your relatives?" Professor Snape was confused, to say the least.

Harry laughed. "I suppose you could say that I did live with my relatives for the first part of my childhood."

"But- what?" Professor Snape stood up and started to pace.

"I'll give you a hint. You say you knew my mother." Harry replied.

"Yes..." Professor Snape was extremely confused.

"I grew up with her side of the family," he hinted, gazing at the shelves full of potions materials.

"But her parents are dead... they died in a house fire while we were still in Hogwarts," said Professor Snape, sitting back down in his chair, "Unless..."

"Unless?" Harry prompted, smirking slightly.

"Don't tell me he placed you with Petunia!" Professor Snape growled.

"As a matter of fact, he did," replied Harry, "You knew her?"

At this, Professor Snape laughed harshly, "Knew her? Of course I knew her! We were neighbors you know, and she was always very disapproving of magic."

"Well, it seems like she passed on her hatred of magic to her husband and son," Harry stated, as if he couldn't have cared less. As if their treatment of him didn't still haunt him.

"You mean you actually grew up with her?" at Harry's confirming nod, he mumbled, "Oh Merlin," covering his face with his hands.

They sat in silence, Professor Snape processing what he had just been told, Harry trying hard not to think of the Dursleys.

"So how on earth did the goblins get involved? From my experience, they don't normally get involved with internal wizarding affairs," Professor Snape asked after a few moments, snapping Harry back to the present.

"Discrepancies in financial statements," Harry replied. At Professor Snape's incredulous expression, he shrugged, "Apparently I have an extraordinarily dedicated account manager."

"I see..." Professor Snape said, still not quite believing.

Wanting to change the subject, Harry asked, "So how did you meet my mum?"

"We were neighbors, growing up together. We used to play in the nearby park together, much to Petunia's chagrin. Apparently she didn't really like Lily hanging out with 'that Snape boy'," he reminisced, with a fond expression on his face.

Just then, he caught a glimpse of the clock. "You should probably head back to the Ravenclaw Common Room," he said, "It's almost curfew."

"Of course," Harry said, getting up, "Will you tell me more about my mum later?"

"Perhaps over the weekend," the professor replied.

"Alright. Good night sir," Harry said, exiting the classroom.

Harry walked up the stairs to the Ravenclaw common room, happy that he had made another ally in the battle against Dumbledore that was sure to ensue soon.

-o-o-

**A/N:** Finally done! I kept writing and rewriting that scene at the end there with Professor Snape. Still don't really like how it flows; it seems really clunky to me, but oh well.

Review and let me know what you think! Thank you for reading!

Chapter posted: November 14th, 2019

Tentative update date: November 18th, 2019

Chapter edited: December 15th, 2019 (scene with Professor Snape edited slightly for flow)


	9. Interlude: Dumbledore's First Day

**Interlude: Dumbledore's First Day**

It was a bad day. It was a horrible, no good, very bad day.

To begin with, his deputy had overridden him when it came to scheduling. His own deputy! Dumbledore had wanted to reschedule everything so that the Ravenclaws were paired with the Gryffindors for all their classes. That idea had been vetoed by a very irate deputy who had come up to his office at the crack of dawn, demanding to know what was going on. Of course, he was up by then, but that wasn't the point.

Dumbledore winced as he recalled that conversation. His poor eardrums would never be the same again. Minerva had barged into his office, without even pausing to knock, and had shrieked like a harpy about how, he, the great Albus Dumbledore, was a fool!

Of course, he had made a great many mistakes that had set his plans back some; that, Dumbledore was willing to admit. But who was she of all people to tell him that?

Everything he did, every action, every word, was carefully planned, all for the greater good.

The day only went downhill from there. After enduring Minerva's screeching lecture about how he was not to interfere with Harry Potter's life and how he was not to mess around with the school schedules, seeing as that was how they had been for the past few centuries, and how he most certainly not allowed to mess with school schedules for the purpose of interfering with Harry Potter's life, he went down to breakfast.

Thankfully, Rita had not published anything that day, so the Daily Prophet was actually quite tame that day. Thank Merlin for the small mercies.

After returning to his office, Dumbledore began to work on his paperwork, sucking on lemon drops as he did. Nothing made him feel better than the sweet and sour taste of his beloved lemon drops. And working on paperwork was the worst. Who knew that there would be so much paperwork that he had to do for all of his roles?

Oh well, it was all for the greater good. When he ruled the world some day, it would all be worth it. Plus, when he ruled the world, he could foist all of the paperwork off to his underlings while he dealt with all the important stuff.

Sighing in contentment as he fantasized about the world that he would someday rule, he subconsciously reached down for his bag of lemon drops... and found it empty.

Dumbledore sat bolt upright in his chair. Where were his precious lemon drops? When he found out why he was missing them, someone was going to pay!

Just then, a screeching alarm rang out. Dumbledore had disabled most of the alarms' noises, seeing as that they were really quite distracting and the previous headmasters always annoyed him when he just ignored them. Instead, he had made sure that all of the instances were recorded onto a sheet of parchment, for him to review whenever he wanted to.

One of the few alarms that he had still enabled was the one that monitored the use of necromancy within the castle walls. While he was willing to ignore many things, a necromancy alarm was one of the few things he was willing to put aside his Very Important Work for.

For one, necromancy was monitored by the Ministry of Magic, and he simply didn't want to take his chances with them pounding down the Hogwarts gates. Of course, normally they didn't really notice anything, but Dumbledore was unwilling to take the chance. If even a hint of him being involved in Necromancy reached the ears of the wizarding public, he would be slaughtered.

Secondly, if a student was performing Necromancy, this could give him the key to figuring out who was going to be the next dark lord. Only the darkest of the dark would perform such horrid magic, and young Tom Riddle was one of them. Dumbledore shook his head as he remembered how easily Dippet had bought his excuses.

Rushing into action, Dumbledore called out, "Fawkes!"

A moment later, he called again, "Fawkes!" this time sending a pulse of magic out.

Calling for Fawkes again, still no fiery bird flamed in front of him. Where had that stupid bird gone off to?

Deciding that this was a mystery that could be solved later, Dumbledore ran down the stairs, pounding through the corridors until he reached the History classroom, just to bump into the one and only Harry Potter.

"What is going on here?" he demanded.

"Nothing much, Headmaster, just our dear Professor Binns leaving this plane of existence," the boy replied, having the audacity to even give him a sly smirk!

As Dumbledore stared at him, aghast, the boy continued as if nothing had happened, "I imagine that you are quite worried about hiring a new history teacher. Not to worry though, I'm sure that you have plenty of funds for that; after all, you have been pocketing the salary allocated for the history teacher ever since you became headmaster."

How dare he! How dare he! As his brain caught up, he realized the magnitude of what the boy had just said. How on earth did he know that Dumbledore had been pocketing the history teacher's salary? And not to worry? Without that additional salary, he wouldn't have enough money to pay off the various people he had to do his bidding! And so he would have to cut into his robe budget! His robe budget! This was a disaster!

After realizing that the boy had left the classroom, Dumbledore called out, "Mr. Potter! Come back here this instant!" But apparently the boy was too far away to hear him.

Turning back to the rest of the History class, he asked in a kindly grandfatherly tone, "Now, children, what happened here?"

Immediately, a babble of voices accosted his eardrums. From what he could understand, Harry had called Professor Binns a liar, interrupting his lecture. When Professor Binns had rebuked him, he had explained a bit of history, which Professor Binns had questioned the veracity of. Harry responded by banishing the spirit from the realm by slashing it with the sword that he had gotten from the hat!

That must have been what had set off the alarms. With that conclusion reached, Dumbledore called out, stopping the noise, "Thank you, children. You can have a free period until I find a new history teacher."

Sighing, Dumbledore trudged wearily up back to his office. Where was Fawkes anyway? Thinking back, the last time he had seen Fawkes was... last June. Had Fawkes left him? How dare he!

Entering his office, Dumbledore went back to filing paperwork until lunchtime. Then, he put on his benign grandfatherly visage and smiled politely and nodded along as the professors spoke.

As the meal finished, he said, "Filius, I would like to speak to you a moment, in my office."

Sighing, Professor Flitwick got up, "It'll have to be quick, Albus, I have my next class in 15 minutes."

"Of course, of course," Dumbledore replied.

When they got to his office Dumbledore started, "Now, young Harry is in your house."

"Yes, Albus," Filius replied, "What did you want to discuss? Surely whatever business involving Mr. Potter you wished to discuss could be discussed during the staff meeting?"

"Ah, yes," Dumbledore smiled, "I just merely wanted to chat with young Mr. Potter about what had happened during History of Magic this morning."

"Was that all?" Filius asked.

"Yes, yes," Dumbledore replied, "Just escort him up after your last class."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Albus. His guardians would not allow that. Surely Minerva showed you the letter?" answered Filius.

"What letter?"

By the time Filius had to leave to get to his next class, Albus Dumbledore was boiling with rage. How dare they, whoever young Harry's guardians were, get in the way for his plans for the greater good! And Filius had flat-out refused to go along with Albus, siding with the guardians of the boy-who-lived over him!

When Dumbledore had threatened to fire him, Filius just smirked and said that he would need the Board's approval first before quickly departing the office.

It was madness! Utter madness! Of course, that was not all he wanted to speak to the Potter boy about, but that was besides the point. Oh well, he would get the boy alone eventually. And then he would regret ever going against Albus Dumbledore.

-o-o-

**A/N:** A shorter chapter than normal, but I felt it would be important to start to hint about some of Dumbledore's motivations. Let me know what you think!

Thanks to everyone who reads, follows, favorites, and reviews! I'm absolutely in awe over how many people are reading this story!

Next chapter will be back with Harry and the rest of his exciting first week of Hogwarts.

Chapter posted: November 18th, 2019

Tentative update date: November 25th, 2019


	10. Chapter 7: The Rest of the First Week

**Chapter 7: The Rest of the First Week**

The next day Harry woke up early, having been jolted out of his sleep by a dream that he couldn't quite remember except for fuzzy blurriness, a scream, a green light, and then pain. He had been having that same dream for as long as he could remember, probably at least once or twice a week.

The goblin mind-healer had said that it was most likely his memories from his biological parents' deaths, and said that over time, as he got over their deaths, the dream will stop recurring so often. But that didn't happen. How could he move on from his parents' deaths when their murderer was still in this mortal plane? He had found an adoptive family with the goblins, sure, but he couldn't help longing for his biological ones just the same, even though if they had lived, he'd never have been adopted by goblins.

Shaking his head to clear it from such morbid thoughts, Harry decided he might as well make good use of the morning hours and get some Transfiguration reading done.

Transfiguration was particularly interesting for him because goblins didn't have transfiguration, nor did they have their own equivalent of it. Sure, they did have what the wizards called "conjuration", which wizards considered a branch of transfiguration, but it was not the same. Not the same at all.

Goblin conjuration was the use of enchantments and runes to create an object. With the sheath for the sword of Ragnok the First, he had made use of the goblin runes on the sword to create a sheath. But the other branches of transfiguration goblins simply had no practical use for. Why change something from one form to another - one that had the tendency to revert at any point - into something they could just make by hand and have it last as close to forever as it could get?

Before long, Anthony was starting to stir. "Reading ahead already?" he murmured sleepily.

"Well, I wasn't sorted into Ravenclaw for nothing," Harry replied.

Once Anthony was fully awake and both of them had collected their books for the day, the pair of them headed downstairs to the common room, where the rest of the first years were congregated.

"Where were you last night?" Asked Michael.

"Uh..."

Harry was saved from responding as a perfect told all of them to line up so they could get to breakfast. He hadn't wanted to make it seem that Professor Snape favored him.

-o-o-

When they arrived at breakfast, Headmaster Dumbledore accosted Harry, "Harry, my dear boy, come up to my office for a quick chat after breakfast! No need to involve your guardian, I'm sure, it's just a friendly chat."

"I'm sorry, Headmaster, but I am unable to speak to you without my guardian present and a 72 hour written notice," Harry replied, his tone hard, "Furthermore, you are to stop addressing me so informally and address me as Mr. Potter."

The headmaster sputtered. No student had ever dared to talk to him in such a manner. Quickly, he thought of a way around the situation, "Detention, Harry, for your disrespect. You'll be serving it with me in my office after dinner tonight." Ha! Let him try to talk himself out of this one!

Harry smiled pleasantly, "I'm afraid that I am not allowed to be alone with you without a 72 hours written notice and my guardian's presence. I'm sure you don't mind Professor Flitwick handling my detention instead? Now, if you'll excuse me, I have breakfast to eat before I head to classes," With that, Harry brushed past Dumbledore and sat down with the rest of the Ravenclaws.

-o-o-

That morning, the first year Ravenclaws had Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Professor Sprout seemed to be a fairly competent teacher, warm and cheerful. They worked in greenhouse 1, and she had introduced them to some of the tamer magical plants, the ones that they would be working with for the duration of their first year.

Essentially, Herbology seemed to be almost like muggle gardening, but with magical plants. Even though goblins lived in caves, they still did grow plants using light from... guess where... magic! So Harry did know some things about Herbology, he just wasn't miles ahead of everyone like he was in Potions.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was rather interesting. The teacher, Professor Quirrel, stuttered so much you could barely understand what he was saying. The room also smelled strangely of garlic. However, from what he could understand, first year DADA was mostly theoretical. They would not be doing practicals until 2nd year.

Harry was disappointed to hear that. He was looking forward to seeing what wizards constituted as defense. In the goblin realm, defense was simply fighting, with both swords and their magical daggers. It took a great amount of coordination to be fully skilled at that method of fighting.

In the wizarding world, well, Harry could imagine that it was just fighting with their wands, sending spells out and shielding against them. He had heard from rumors that wizards were so lazy they had never even heard of dodging practice!

-o-o-

After a quick lunch, the first year Ravenclaws headed to Transfiguration. Sitting on the teacher's desk was a cat. On a lark, Harry went up to the cat and said, "Hello, Professor McGonagall."

The cat jumped off the desk, transforming back into a human mid-jump. "How did you know it was me?" She asked, shocked.

"You were sitting too still for a regular cat," Harry replied with a shrug, "It was just a guess."

"I see, " said Professor McGonagall, looking quite unsettled, "Ten points to Ravenclaw for figuring out something that no one else has ever figured out in my thirty years of teaching."

"Thank you Professor McGonagall," Harry replied, "But really, it was just being observant. I spent a lot of time training to learn how to spot little things like that."

She stared at him for a few moments longer, as if trying to figure out a puzzle. Then she sighed, "That was an animagus transformation. It is a transformation that is very difficult to learn how to do," she held up her hand, forestalling anything the class might have said, before continuing, "If you are interested in learning it, come back and talk to me once you've taken your O.W.L.s."

Seeing that everyone was paying rapt attention to her, she lectured as she turned her desk into a pig and back with a flick of her wand, "Transfiguration is a very dangerous subject. Anyone fooling around will not come back. This is your first and last warning."

With that, she launched into a lecture about the basics of transfiguration theory before passing around matches and instructing them to turn them into needles.

Hermione managed to turn her match shiny and pointy after a few attempts, but Harry was unable to change it no matter how hard he tried.

"How are you able to do that?" Harry whispered.

"I just say the incantation and use the proper wand movement," she answered, slightly befuddled that he was having such a hard time, "Didn't you ever learn this?"

"No," Harry replied, speaking softly, "Goblins are a warrior species, so most of our lessons focused on how to best kill. That, and economics."

"But you did Conjuration at the sorting feast and that's a N.E.W.T. level spell!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Ah," Harry said, "That was just making use of the goblin enchantments on the sword and combining it with my own magic from the dagger. It wasn't actually conjuration per se."

"Then do goblins have a substitute for Transfiguration?" questioned Hermione.

"Enchantments and runes," answered Harry before changing the subject, "So you just said the incantation and performed the wand movement? That's it? No other thoughts running through your mind?"

"Yes," she confirmed.

Harry tried again. And again. Still, the match didn't look any different.

"Don't worry too much about it," Hermione said softly, "You're not the only that is unable to do the transfiguration."

Just then, Professor McGonagall walked past their table. "Oh!" she exclaimed excitedly, "5 points for Ravenclaw, Miss Granger! I've never seen a first year do it as fast as you have! As for you, Mr. Potter, I would recommend less talking and more working."

Harry glared angrily at his match. He tried to do the spell again. Stabbing it with his wand, he thought hard about how he wanted it to look like, all the way down to its molecular formula. Still no change. Harry attempted the spell again and again, absorbing himself into getting the spell to work. But still, the match did not change at all.

Harry was so absorbed in his task that he didn't even notice the bell ringing. It took Hermione nudging him to bring him back to the present.

"Come on, let's go!" Hermione hissed, "I want to see if there are any books on goblins in the library."

"If there are, they're probably highly inaccurate," grumbled Harry, but reluctantly followed behind Hermione anyway.

-o-o-

True to Harry's prediction, the books about goblins were highly inaccurate at best, blatantly false at worst.

"I can't believe it! These books are so- so wrong! I thought they're supposed to be accurate!" Hermione exclaimed half an hour later.

"Keep your voice down," Harry urged her, "We're in a library. And besides, I told you so."

Hermione looked disgruntled, but changed the subject, "What book are you reading?"

"_A Treatise on Transfiguration Theory_," Harry replied, "I want to see why I am unable to perform the transfiguration."

"Harry, relax, it'll come to you. A lot of the others weren't able to perform it either," Hermione consoled.

Harry flipped a page in the enormous book, "Yeah, but they're lazy baboons and I'm not."

"Harry!" she mock scolded him, hiding a smile, "I don't think the rest of the class would appreciate being called a lazy baboon."

"Well they are," Harry replied, not looking up from the book.

"Fine," Hermione huffed, "I'm going to read ahead for Potions."

The two of them worked silently until dinner time, Harry reading his enormous Transfiguration book while Hermione got a head start on some reading.

"Harry?" asked Hermione, as they were cleaning up their workspace, "Why don't you just go see whether or not Professor Flitwick had the same problem? He was raised by his goblin side of the family, wasn't he?"

"No," Harry frowned, "He was raised by his wizarding side of the family, otherwise he never would have gone to Hogwarts. He made contact with the goblin side of his family only after he had gone to Hogwarts and did some research."

"Oh," Hermione said, having nothing more to say.

"But the idea does have some merit," Harry conceded, "It would help me narrow down a few theories. Thank you Hermione."

-o-o-

The two of them entered the Great Hall together, quickly taking a seat with the rest of the Ravenclaws, who had gone to the common room to hang out after Transfiguration.

"The library?" questioned Padma.

At Harry and Hermione's affirmative responses, she continued, "Well, you won't be able to go to the library again tonight; Professor Flitwick's called a house meeting."

Hermione seemed almost horrified that she wasn't going to be able to visit the library, but nodded along anyway.

"Hey Hermione," Harry whispered as they were finishing up the main course, "There aren't any rules against sitting with people of other houses, are there?"

Hermione thought for a moment, "No, not unless it is a feast."

"Good," Harry replied with a smirk, as deserts started to appear. Getting up from his seat, he plopped himself down at the table next to them, which happened to be the Slytherin table. Immediately, whispers started up. All along the tables, people were whispering about a Ravenclaw - not just any Ravenclaw, but the Boy-Who-Lived - sitting with the snakes!

Harry nonchalantly took a treacle tart and started eating it.

"What are you doing here, Potter?" Malfoy blustered, seeming to have finally gotten his voice back.

"Eating dessert, of course," Harry answered, "What else would I be doing?"

Turning towards the girl next to him, he introduced himself with a slight bow, "Harry Potter, Heir to the Ancient and Noble House of Potter." He and Firedagger had decided to keep all of his titles secret to the general student population, except for the one regarding the House of Potter.

The girl smiled, inclining her head in acknowledgement, "Pansy Parkinson, daughter of the Ancient House of Parkinson. It's a pleasure. Although I think everyone knows who you are." She smiled then, with entirely too many teeth.

Taking their cues from Pansy, the rest of the Slytherins introduced themselves formally until Malfoy was the only one left. Harry noted the dynamics of the Slytherin house. It seemed that they were far more steeped in the traditional ways than the rest of the houses, including Ravenclaw.

Grudgingly, Malfoy introduced himself, "Draco Malfoy, Heir to the Noble House of Malfoy, Heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black," he proclaimed, still managing to sound haughty.

Harry raised an eyebrow at that last pronouncement. How... interesting. Inwardly, he smirked. Boy, was Malfoy in for a shock when he finally discovered who the true heir to the House of Black was.

Introductions done, Malfoy snarled, "So, what are you really doing here, Potter?"

Once again, Harry noted the dynamics of the Slytherin house. Malfoy seemed to be almost the leader of their group, at least at first glance. But in reality, it seemed that Parkinson was the one with the true power.

Shrugging, Harry decided on at least a partially truthful response, "Promoting house unity."

Smiling at their agape faces, Harry realized that the rest of the Great Hall was starting to leave. With a slight bow, he said, "Farewell," before walking with the rest of his housemates back up to the Ravenclaw common room.

-o-o-

The Ravenclaw house meeting essentially consisted of all the prefects introducing themselves and laying out some of Ravenclaw's rules. Everyone, especially the first years, had pretty much settled in, but not much homework had been assigned yet, so they weren't interrupting anyone's studying.

They laid out a tutoring schedule, for anyone who needed extra help in a particular subject. Basically, prefects, on a rotating basis, would hold tutoring sessions for their best subjects.

Additionally as part of the Ravenclaw rules, all who were muggle raised were required to attend a special crash course on wizarding culture, and all those who were wizarding raised were required to attend a special seminar on blending in with muggles. Those were to be held that Saturday. Other houses did not have such a thing, mostly because they were not inspired to learn such things. The Ravenclaw house had learned through experience that the best way to stop members of the house from embarrassing themselves was to teach them the basics of what they needed to know first, then set them off to research in the library.

It was at this part that Harry raised his hand, "I am neither wizard raised nor am I muggle raised. Which course should I take?"

Professor Flitwick answered after a moment of thought, "You should probably take the muggle culture course, as you have ample knowledge on wizarding culture already."

The rest of the evening was spent getting to know their fellow housemates. After all, as Professor McGonagall had put it, your house was your family at Hogwarts.

Towards the end of the night, Harry approached Professor Flitwick. "Professor, can I speak to you privately?"

"Come see me after class tomorrow," the kindly professor replied.

-o-o-

The next day was a Wednesday. They had, or would have had, History of Magic in the morning, Charms in the afternoon, and Astronomy at night. However, since Professor Binns had been banished, and the Headmaster had yet to hire a replacement, the morning was designated as a self-study period.

Harry spent the morning in the common room, chatting with Anthony Goldstein about what his childhood had been like. Meanwhile, Hermione had been buried in her books, trying to read as much as possible, even though none of the teachers had assigned homework yet.

Charms consisted of yet more theory. Honestly, why did magic have so many rules limiting what you could do?

After class, Harry stayed behind, telling Professor Flitwick about his theory for his lack of ability to do the Transfiguration.

"Hmm..." Professor Flitwick answered, "I certainly never had any trouble learning wizarding magic. It could be that you, like everyone else in your class, just haven't been able to do it. However, your theory that goblin magic and wizarding magic are vastly different branches of magic and one doesn't allow for the other does have some merit. I mean, I learned goblin magic after I graduated Hogwarts, and I certainly struggled a lot before finally being able to make my enchantment work. I still have a lot more trouble working with goblin magic now as opposed to wizarding. I'll have to think about this."

"Of course Professor Flitwick," Harry replied, "Thank you." Harry left the room, mind whirring with, if that was even possible, more theories than before.

-o-o-

During dinner that day, Harry sat with the Hufflepuffs. Having remembered their kindly demeanor from Potions, Hermione joined him as well. They struck up conversation easily enough, talking about their family, school, accidental magic, and everything in between. All too soon, Harry and Hermione bid them goodbye, needing to go upstairs to get some homework done before Astronomy class.

Astronomy was at midnight and shared amongst all four houses. Harry and Hermione both thought that was an absolutely ridiculous hour. Why couldn't they just charm one of the ceilings in a spare classroom just like the ceiling in the Great Hall? When they brought this up to the Astronomy professor, she just shrugged and said, "Tradition."

Harry scoffed at that answer. While at times tradition could be important, this was one that should have been stopped a long time ago.

But still, they listened to an hour of lecturing on the planets before stumbling up to their beds, brains too tired to remember anything the teacher had said.

-o-o-

Thursday was the worst, as all of them were still half asleep. They had potions first thing in the morning, and Harry was mostly able to brew on autopilot, as they were making a basic antidote. However, his housemates were not as lucky, and many cauldrons exploded, leaving Professor Snape very irate.

Herbology was next, but Professor Sprout, having anticipated a lack of sleep from Astronomy the night before, had them water the plants. This was rather easy; the only moderately tricky part being watering the correct amount of water. As a result, conversations abounded.

The Ravenclaws shared the class with Gryffindors. Harry worked with a shy boy named Neville Longbottom, both of them trying their utmost best to avoid Ron Weasley. As they worked, Harry discovered that Neville actually had quite a green thumb, as he was very skilled in handling all the plants.

"So you're Neville Longbottom?" Harry asked.

"Y-yes."

Harry nodded, "Was your mother Alice Longbottom?"

Neville looked shocked, "Y-yes."

"My parents mentioned your mother in their will. Apparently, she was my godmother."

Seeming to gather up his courage, Neville answered, "I think your mother was my godmother as well."

Harry smiled, "If things had turned out differently, we might have grown up together."

"We can still be friends. If you want," Neville answered.

"I like that," Harry smiled, "Friends."

With that, the two of them went back to watering the plants.

-o-o-

That afternoon, the first year Ravenclaws had a free period. Normally, they would have flying class, but it was only their first week.

Harry and Hermione spent the time browsing the library, Hermione making a list of all of the books that she had found that were wrong.

"If you want to make a complete list, you'll probably be including all of the books in the library," Harry chuckled.

"Hmph," came Hermione's response, as she continued scribbling.

-o-o-

During dinner, Harry and Hermione sat next to Neville. Hermione happily engaged Neville in conversation about Herbology, of which he seemed to be an expert at. They tried their best to ignore Ron Weasley and his absolutely atrocious table manners.

"Hey Harry! Glad to see you finally came over to the light side!" he shouted across the table while stuffing food into his mouth.

Harry raised an eyebrow but otherwise ignored him. Ron Weasley's manners were absolutely barbaric.

Oblivious to the fact that Harry was giving him a cold shoulder, he continued on, "I'm glad you're sitting with us Gryffindors and all, but why are you sitting with the squib rather than with me?"

Harry kept silent, studiously eating his food.

Continuing on, even though Harry was ignoring him and totally unaware of the hole he was digging himself into, "Also, why did you have to bring the friendless know-it-all with you?"

At this, Harry finally snapped, "Neville is no squib. He is a wizard, better than you at any rate. And Hermione does have a name. She also does have friends, but perhaps you are unable to recognize that, seeing as you have no friends of your own."

With that, Harry continued his conversation with Neville and Hermione, while Ron Weasley sputtered with rage, determined to get revenge on the Boy-Who-Lived. He should be honored that Ron even deigned to give him, a lowly Ravenclaw, the time of day. But no, he embarrassed him. And Ron vowed that he would get even one day.

-o-o-

After dinner, Harry served his "detention" that the headmaster had assigned him with Professor Flitwick,. In reality, it just consisted of them bouncing theories back and forth while Harry attempted to perform one of the easiest charms, Light Charm (Lumos).

Unfortunately, he still had not succeeded by the time it was time to leave, and was no closer to having an answer to his dilemma.

Professor Flitwick had said that he would ask Firedagger to see if something of this nature had ever occurred before.

-o-o-

The next day was Friday, and finally, the week was drawing to a close. They had Transfiguration in the morning, followed by DADA in the afternoon.

Transfiguration consisted of the same thing as the first class, where Harry tried and failed to transfigure the matchstick to a needle. However, by this point, Harry was one of the few that was unable to cast the transfiguration. He could already hear the gossip about the possibility of the boy-who-lived being a squib.

After lunch, they went to DADA. It was much the same thing as the first class, Professor Quirrel stuttering his way through what would have been an interesting lecture.

However, this time, Harry felt a sense of awareness that something was wrong with Professor Quirrell. His instincts screamed at him to get out of the room as fast as possible. Normally, Harry would trust them, but he couldn't just run out of the classroom screaming. Still, Harry stayed alert the entire class period.

Much to his relief, the class passed without much drama. As everyone filed out of the classroom, Professor Quirrel called, "Mr. Potter, stay behind."

Instantly wary, Harry placed his hand on the hilt of the dagger, ready to draw it at a moment's notice. Turning to face Professor Quirrell, Harry noticed that he had managed to close the distance between them. The professor was now only a meter away from him.

"Yes, Professor?" he asked.

The professor smirked. Harry drew his dagger, but before he could do anything, everyone went black.

-o-o-

**A/N:** An extraordinarily long chapter! Don't expect them to be this long all the time.

I would apologize for the cliff hanger ending, but I wouldn't really mean it... so... Sorry but not sorry. :)

Thank you to everyone who reads this story! I will be very happy if you review and let me know what you think (hint hint).

Happy Thanksgiving to all who celebrate it!

Chapter posted: November 25th, 2019

Tentative update date: December 2nd, 2019


	11. Chapter 8: Quirrell

**Note: **This story is now rated T. There is torture (nothing graphic) and a death (again, nothing graphic) near the end of this chapter. If you don't want to read it, skip over the parts after the Imperius up until the next section break. Thanks!

-o-o-

**Chapter 8: Quirrell**

As Harry came back to consciousness, the first thing he registered was pain. It was as if someone had ran him through the mill a few times over. It hurt for him to breathe, and his extremities were numb. His head pounded.

Cracking open an eyelid, he immediately groaned and shut his eyes again. It was too white, too bright. His headache intensified a hundred-fold.

"Ah, Mr. Potter, you're awake!" He heard an unfamiliar voice say, before a potions vial was placed on his lips, "Drink up!"

"Wha-?"

The voice sighed huffily, "I am Madam Pomfrey, the mediwitch at Hogwarts. Drink the pain relieving potion. It'll make you feel better."

His mouth opened almost subconsciously. As soon as he drank the potion, the pain subsided immediately.

"Better?" Madam Pomfrey questioned.

"Yes," Harry answered, "What happened?"

Harry heard the distinct voice of Professor Flitwick say, "That is what I'll like to know. You were found unconscious in the third floor corridor two days ago after some of Headmaster Dumbledore's alarms were tripped, covered in bruises and scratches and showing symptoms of Cruciatus exposure and magical exhaustion. Miss Granger said that you had stayed after class because Professor Quirrell wished to speak to you. Unfortunately, Professor Quirrel left on a family emergency right after you went missing so we couldn't question him."

At those words, memories came rushing back to him. Professor Quirrel stunning him. A dog with three heads. Getting beaten up by giant chess pieces. A giant troll. Fire. A ruby-red stone sitting on a pillar. Pain. Pain. And more pain. Darkness. Harry gasped.

Madam Pompfrey waved her wand to perform a diagnostic charm. After reading the results, she declared briskly, "I'll need you to stay overnight for observation. You still need to take a few more potions tonight. Other than that, you've healed nicely."

After Harry nodded in acknowledgement, Madam Pomfrey bustled away, seeming to have realized that Professor Flitwick and Harry needed to talk in private.

As soon as Professor Flitwick had cast a few silencing spells, Harry asked, "Would it be possible for you to send a memory to Firedagger?"

"Yes, I believe I will be able to," Professor Flitwick replied, summoning a crystal vial.

Harry nodded, and put the tip of his wand to his head, drawing out a thin milky white strand. He dropped it into the vial, which Professor Flitwick promptly corked. He put his wand to his head again, drawing out another copy of the memory. Surprised, Professor Flitwick managed to summon another vial, corking it in the same manner as the first.

"You should watch the memory as well," Harry told him.

"Thank you, I will. I shall send the other copy over to Firedagger immediately. He is desperate for news. Last time I checked, he was prepping a team of warriors to come charging over here," Professor Flitwick said, getting up.

Harry nodded. "Let's hope you forestall that," he said with a grin, waving Professor Flitwick off,.

Professor Flitwick had reached the entrance of the hospital wing before he remembered, "Here is the purging potion. It came while you were unconscious," he said, placing it on Harry's nightstand.

"Thank you," Harry said gratefully, sniffing the potion before downing it all in one gulp, smiling, "As nasty as ever, but just as effective. My mind feels so much clearer already. I think I'll need some time to think first though. There are so many things that were so blurry before."

"Take your time," Professor Flitwick said, exiting the Hospital Wing, "Madam Pomfrey knows how to contact me if need be."

-o-o-

Firedagger paced anxiously around his office. Even though he'll never admit it, he cared deeply for Harry and thought of him as a son. Goblins by nature were never very demonstrative, and a goblin leader expressing fondness for a non-goblin would get him removed from his post. But just because he didn't show it, didn't mean that he didn't care about Harry.

According to Filius, the mediwitch at Hogwarts had said that Harry would be waking up sometime today. He needed to know what had happened. Whether or not there was a threat at Hogwarts. If he should send a team of warriors to Hogwarts or simply withdraw Harry.

Just then, the wooden box on his desk pinged. Opening the lid that was carved with runes, he drew out a short scroll and a vial containing a memory. Setting the vial aside for now, he opened the scroll. It was written in Filius' calligraphy. It read:

"_Firedagger-_

_Mr. Potter is well and has no lasting injuries. The mediwitch will be keeping him overnight for observation. I have attached the memory that Harry has asked to be sent to you._

_Awaiting your reply,_

_Filius Flitwick_"

Firedagger let out a sigh of relief that he didn't even know that he was holding in. Harry was safe. That was really all that mattered in the end.

Fetching a pensieve from one of the shelves in his office, Firedagger placed it on his desk. He barked at the guards outside his office that he was not to be disturbed. Then he poured the memory into the pensieve, and with an apprehensive breath, leaped in.

-o-o-

Firedagger landed in an unfamiliar classroom packed with students. He easily picked out Harry among the sea of people.

_The bell rang, and the professor called for Harry to remain behind. "Yes, Professor?" Harry asked._

Firedagger instantly had a bad feeling. True to his thoughts, the next thing he saw was darkness.

It may have been a few minutes later when the darkness finally receded. Subconsciously, Firedagger immediately had his dagger out and ready for a fight before he realized that it was just a memory. Even for a seasoned fighter like himself, it was still a frightening scene. He could only imagine how Harry must have felt.

_There was a dog with three heads, snarling and pulling at its constraints. Drool dripped from the dog's maws and an absolutely horrific smell pervaded the air. Professor Quirrell entered the room, Harry floating behind him, stiff as a board and unable to move, eyes wide open and unblinking._

_Professor Quirrell cackled, "Normally, I would try to do this subtly, but I think that since you're here, we shall make it more dramatic." With that, the dog's heads were sliced off with a single slice of Quirrell's wand. They landed on the wooden floor with sickening thumps, blood starting to pool._

_With a flick of his wand, Quirrell levitated the still warm body of the dog away from the trapdoor and opened it. "In you go," he said with a smirk, sending Harry floating down into the dark cavernous depths. _

Firedagger screamed internally as he watched, both of fear of what would happen, but also of anger at this hoax that called himself a professor. But little did he know, the worst was yet to come. He quickly followed memory-Harry through the trapdoor and landed on a spongy green substance.

_Quirrell followed after Harry, floating gently down. He stared, smirking at Harry's prone form being slowly surrounded by green tentacles, before muttering, "Devil's Snare. Of course." He then cast a fire._

The intensity of the fire was so bright that Firedagger was blinded for a moment, leaving him with black spots in his vision. By the time he was able to see again, Quirrell had left the room. Hurrying along, Firedagger entered the next room and saw - keys? Flying keys?

Firedagger shook his head at what he had witnessed so far. A giant, feral, three-headed dog in a school? Flying keys? Filius had mentioned something about the headmaster warning the students that the third floor corridor on the right hand side lead to a painful death, but Firedagger had just brushed it off, thinking that it was more of the headmaster's… eccentricities. Now he wished that he had pressed Filius for more information.

By this point, Quirrell had managed to catch the key and had entered the next room. It contained a giant oversized chessboard.

_Quirrell flicked his wand, causing the levitation charm to end. Harry landed on the concrete floor none too gently. Meanwhile, Quirrell had taken the place of the black king and had began to play. Before long, chunks of stone were flying everywhere, some hitting Harry's unmoving body._

Firedagger fought a wince as he saw blood flowing out of cuts that the stones had caused.

_Due to his unmerciless attacking style, Quirrell won the game before long. He floated Harry towards him before marching out of the room._

_The next room contained a troll. A great, stinky troll swinging its club around. WIth brutal efficiency, Quirrell dispatched the troll, sending blood splattering all over the place._

_He taunted, "What's the matter, Potter? Can't handle a little blood?"_

_Harry was unable to answer, as Quirrell had placed a silencing charm on him earlier. Quirrell did not seem to expect an answer, only smirking even more widely. _

"_You know," Quirrell continued, "If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have bothered with all of the drama. I would have quietly come in, gotten the stone, and left. But because of you drawing the sword from the hat, my master insisted that we move up our plans. Of course, I don't question my master, but that did cause some inconvenience. It doesn't matter anyway. Soon you will be dead, and my master will rule the world."_

"_Enough talking Quirrell!" a raspy voice demanded._

"_Of course, master," Quirrell responded subserviently, before continuing on to the next room._

Internally, Firedagger's brain whirred. Who could Quirrell's master be? What did they want with Harry? What stone was he talking about? Could it be Voldemort? That would make a lot of sense. but he personally had witnessed the removal and subsequent destruction of the soul shard in Harry's scar. Unless... there were more of those vile things out there? Turning back to the memory, he continued to watch what was happening, still pondering the ramifications of the mystery voice being Voldemort.

_As soon as Quirrell, with a floating Harry behind him, crossed the threshold of the door, magic black flames appeared in front of them and behind them, trapping them. Quirrell picked up the parchment and read it silently. _

"_Ah… Severus' work," the raspy voice said, continuing after a slight pause. "Drink from the smallest vial."_

_Quirrell did so, drinking about half of it, then yanking Harry's mouth open and pouring the remaining amount in there. Then he marched through the black flames. _

Firedagger followed silently behind them. Mentally, he was going through the names of all of the Hogwarts teachers he knew of. If his list was correct, then they were almost at the end of this demented obstacle course, or whatever other name Albus Dumbledore called it. They would certainly be having some words soon.

_Harry and Quirrell entered the final room. To Quirrell's shock, the stone was merely sitting on a pedestal, as if inviting anyone to come and take it. Quirrell scanned the surroundings for signs of magical defenses, but his scans came up empty. _

Firedagger was just as shocked as Quirrell when he found out that there were no defenses on the stone. He vaguely recognized its ruby red color and had deduced that it was the legendary Philosopher's Stone, the one that would give you immortality and unlimited riches. Why on earth would Albus Dumbledore just leave it here, with easily overcomable obstacles as defense?

_Suspicious, Quirrell waved his wand, casting "Imperio" on Harry before undoing his bindings._

Firedagger held his breath. The fact that Professor Quirrell had cast the Imperius Curse in Hogwarts of all places did not bode well. Hogwarts had alarms for that kind of stuff. While Professor Dumbledore was… lax in checking those alarms, he was surely not that much of a fool.

_For a moment, it seemed as if Harry was heading straight towards the stone. Suddenly, as if everything had become clear, he leaped into action, drawing his dagger with his left hand and the Sword of Ragnuk the First with his right. Running towards the professor, he swung both blades at him, casting goblin curses with dagger. _

_The professor was surprised, but his reflexes soon took over. He ducked the blades and the curses, leaping up, and returning fire. His agility surprised Harry for a moment, but they were soon firing all sorts of curses at each other. _

_One of the professor's curses connected and Harry fell to the ground, screaming in agony. "Like that?" Quirrell purred, "The Cruciatus Curse. It's an Unforgivable you know. Causes unbelievable agony."_

_Harry could only scream in pain._

Firedagger watched in horror as Quirrell continued to taunt Harry. He had heard of the Cruciatus Curse before, and from what he had heard, he did not like it one bit.

"_Stop toying with the boy," the raspy voice said, "Take the stone, stun him again, and get out of Dumbledore's domain."_

"_Of course, master," Quirrel replied, ending the curse and turning towards the stone._

_With unbelievable strength of mind and spirit, Harry managed to get up and lunged at Quirrell from behind, pinning him to the ground. Quirrell started screaming._

_Harry stared horror-stricken as Quirrel's skin slowly peeled off and burned away. He tried to remove his hand, but found that it was stuck there, as if by glue._

Firedagger was horrified. This- this was not what he was expecting when he entered the memory.

He considered pulling Harry out of the madhouse that the headmaster called a school, especially if this kind of stuff happened within the first week. He shuddered to think of what the end of the year could bring. He resolved to consult Harry first before doing anything he might later regret.

_Quirrell slowly burned to a crisp. Ashes were all that remained of the defense professor. A wispy black spirit rose out of the ashes._

"_See what I, the great Lord Voldemort, has become, Harry Potter? But not for long. My loyal servants shall resurrect me, and when that time comes, you will be a dead man. Your days are limited, Harry Potter," the voice said, before vanishing into the air._

_Everything went black._

-o-o-

Firedagger was ejected out of the memory and sat at his desk, panting, thoughts whirring, making plans, contingencies, and backup plans for backup plans. If Lord Voldemort rose again, the goblins would stand firmly behind Harry.

Internally, he resolved to keep Harry safe. No matter the cost. Seeing the memory really drove home to him how much he really cared about the young wizard.

Firedagger picked up his quill. He had a lot of letters to write.

-o-o-

**A/N: **I originally did not plan for everything to turn this dark so fast. After this though, we'll have a couple of lighter chapters (that's the plan, at least).

Thank you for reading! Over 100 reviews now! So super happy! *does little happy dance*

Chapter posted: December 2nd, 2019

Tentative update date: December 9th, 2019


	12. Chapter 9: Meetings in the Hospital Wing

**Chapter 9: Meetings in the Hospital WIng**

After Professor Flitwick left the hospital wing, Harry returned to his thoughts. The Purging Potion truly had cleared things up a bit in his mind, but that didn't make sorting through his memories any easier.

His memories seemed to be sharper, clearer. That was perfectly normal, from what he had previously heard about the potion. Any memories that now seemed much crisper would have been directly influenced by a mind-altering substance.

As Harry paged through his memories, he realized that many of his memories with Anthony were far clearer than before. But then that would mean that someone was influencing his thoughts towards Anthony.

Harry didn't have any more time to ponder for the door to the Hospital Wing opened just then. Anthony and Hermione appeared in the doorway, then, having spotted Harry, hurried towards him.

"Are you okay?" Hermione questioned anxiously, "What happened?"

Harry smiled at his friend, "I'm fine, and it is a rather long story."

With that, he explained to Hermione and Anthony what had happened with Quirrell.

"But- but Professor Quirrell is a teacher!" Exclaimed Hermione as soon as he finished the story.

"And so?" Harry asked with a raise of his eyebrows.

"He- he- well, the headmaster must have hired him. And he must have at least conducted a background check and an interview." Hermione replied.

Before Harry could answer, Anthony jumped in, "What's a background check?"

Both Harry and Hermione stared at him in surprise, although for different reasons. Hermione spoke up first, "You mean, the wizarding world doesn't have background checks?"

"I thought you grew up, at least partly, in the muggle world?" Harry questioned, already suspicious of Anthony due to the effects of the Purging Potion.

Hermione glanced at Anthony, curious. He flushed red. However, before they could question him further, Madam Pomfrey bustled in.

"I thought I heard - Oh!" she exclaimed, "Filius left?" At Harry's nod, she fixed them all with a steely glare, "5 more minutes before you need to leave, he needs to rest!"

Just as she said this, the door to the hospital wing opened, and Headmaster Dumbledore, wearing a sickening purple with green polka dots robe, breezed in through the door. All heads turned towards him.

"Ms. Granger, Mr. Goldstein, if you will head to your dormitories? I wish to speak with young Harry," he said, making it clear that it was not a request, but a command.

Harry instantly went on alert. He reached reflexively for his dagger before realizing that it was on the nightstand next to him. He grabbed it and strapped the sheath on. He felt safer that way, although not by much, his hairs rising as Dumbledore smiled benevolently.

"We'll see you in the morning," Hermione said, elbowing Anthony when he opened his mouth to protest. They headed out of the hospital wing.

"Poppy, if you will leave us for a few minutes," the headmaster continued, still smiling.

Madam Pompfrey turned her steely glare on him. "And why exactly do you feel the need to disrupt my patient's rest?"

Dumbledore shivered as Madam Pomfrey gave him her signature penetrating look, but he met her stare head on, "I wish to discuss what happened with young Harry."

"Headmaster," Harry interjected, "I've asked you before and I'll ask you again, please stop addressing me so informally and refer to me as Mr. Potter."

"Of course, my dear boy, of course!" he answered, turning around to face Harry, seemingly have forgotten about Madam Pomfrey's presence. "May I ask you what happened that caused all of your injuries?"

"You may," Harry replied, deciding to be difficult.

Dumbledore sighed, "What happened?"

"Professor Quirrell happened," came Harry's terse answer.

"What did Professor Quirrell do?" asked Dumbledore, sounding slightly annoyed.

"He caused the injuries that you were referring to," Harry said, biting back a grin. Antagonizing Dumbledore was awfully fun.

Dumbledore pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath. Madam Pomfrey cleared her throat. Dumbledore turned around, surprised, and berated in a chiding tone, "Poppy, I thought I asked you to leave."

"Minerva informed me of his guardian's conditions for him attending Hogwarts. And besides, I will not have you unduly stressing my patient out! He needs rest! Discussing whatever you need to discuss can wait until the morning! If it so urgent, go and talk to Filius, but leave my patient alone!" Madam Pomfrey berated the headmaster, her hands on her hips.

The headmaster frowned. "It is vital that I speak to Mr. Potter now."

"It is vital to Mr. Potter's health that he rest now," retorted Madam Pomfrey, crossing the room to the Potions cabinet and digging inside. She came back to Harry's bed with a tray of potions.

"I'm afraid that I must insist to speak to Mr. Potter now," Dumbledore tried again.

"And I'm afraid that I must insist for Mr. Potter to rest now. You can interrogate him tomorrow," Madam Pomfrey shot back, before turning towards Harry and nodding to the tray of potions, "Drink up!"

"Poppy-" the headmaster started.

Madam Pomfrey cut him off, "Leave now before I am forced to kick you out."

Dumbledore puffed up indignantly, "How dare you threaten me! I am the headmaster!"

"And if I deem you a threat to my patient's health and safety, I have the ability to kick you out," Madam Pomfrey said angrily, "Now get out!"

"You have no right!" exclaimed Dumbledore, "I demand to speak to young Harry!"

"I've already told you no," Madam Pomfrey replied huffily, "Now get out!"

"I will speak to young Harry, or you will be out of the job within the hour," Dumbledore threatened.

"You're not the one who decides whether or not you can fire me; that decision is entirely up to the school board," Madam Pomfrey answered, "This is your last warning, get out of hospital wing of your own volition or I will kick you out."

Dumbledore stayed put, fuming mad. He raised his wand.

"Hospital Wing, eject this threat!" Madam Pomfrey barked in a commanding voice. With a whoosh of wind, Dumbledore was gone.

"Thank you for standing up for me," Harry said sincerely.

"It was the right thing to do," Madam Pomfrey muttered angrily, "He has no right!"

"Still, thank you. It couldn't have been easy to stand up to your boss" Harry said, reaching for the potions, "What are these?"

"A pain reliever, a magic booster, and a sleeping draught," she rattled off, "Take the sleeping draught last."

Harry nodded in acknowledgement, downing the first two potions.

"And Mr. Potter?" Madam Pomfrey said, just as he reached for the last potion. Harry looked up and he could see tears forming in her eyes, "You are truly your mother's son. She would have been proud of you. Your father, too."

"Thank you," he whispered softly, before gulping down the sleeping draught.

Madam Pomfrey stared tenderly down at the sleeping boy, tucking in the blankets securely. "I'm on your side, Mr. Potter. I just hope that you win this fight," she pledged softly, before extinguishing the candles with a wave of her wand and heading for her quarters.

-o-o-

**A/N:** A significantly shorter chapter, but it was a good place to stop.

A question for all of you readers: Do you prefer for me to stick with Harry's point of view more or do you want to see things from others' points of view?

Thank you to everyone who has read, followed, favorited, or reviewed the story! It makes my day to see that so many people have enjoyed this story!

Chapter posted: December 9th, 2019

Tentative update date: December 16th, 2019


	13. Chapter 10: Pre-Trial Events

**Chapter 10: Events Leading Up to the Trial of Sirius Black**

The salty sea water splashed on the foreboding figure of Azkaban prison, soaking all of those "lucky" enough to have a window that opened out to the sea with freezing salt water. Sirius Black was one of those people. In his animagus form as a dog, the cold didn't bother him as much. Neither did the dementors, for that matter. But Azkaban wasn't a picnic.

The artificial coldness of the dementors receded. Footsteps slowly grew louder. Human footsteps. That was interesting. Visitors generally didn't visit the high security wing. Wait- footsteps? Sirius hurried to transform back into his human form, but it was too late if the gasp of surprise was anything to go by.

Sirius turned to face the entrance of his cell. Black combat boots. The crimson robes of aurors. The head of department badge. The piercing dark blue eyes behind the signature monocle. The blonde, but graying hair.

"A-amy?" Sirius asked, emotion in his voice.

"Madam Bones to you," she said crisply, carefully blocking out all the emotions she felt, "The Ministry has discovered a grave miscarriage of justice in that you've never received your trial. You will receive a trial as soon as possible. If found innocent, you will be compensated appropriately," the part where he was found guilty was left unsaid, as she continued, "Charges of being an illegal animagus will be added."

With a wave of her wand, Sirius was bound in magic-suppressing handcuffs and the cell door was unlocked. Sirius exited his tiny Azkaban cell for the first time in exactly 9 years and 11 months.

-o-o-

The rest of September breezed by quickly for Harry. They now had two free periods, as not only was there no history professor, there was also no defence against the dark arts professor. Harry didn't mind much. Both teachers were so awful that their self-study periods were far better.

It also meant that Harry had more time to question Hermione on the intricacies of Muggle warfare and banking. He had never realized how simply fascinating muggles could be. When he got back for break, Gringotts would definitely be making many changes.

During meals, Harry continued to alternate sitting at the different house tables, although he also sat with his fellow Ravenclaws on a regular basis. Sometimes Hermione and Anthony joined him, but most of the time he was the only Ravenclaw at that table.

He could frequently be found debating politics at the Slytherin table. While Malfoy was still noticeably cool towards him, the rest of the Slytherins recognized an opportunity to up their social standing. Well, their social standing was a side benefit; they did enjoy his company.

He also became friendly with the Hufflepuffs. They were a cheerful bunch, always able to make Harry laugh. Susan occasionally passed him letters from her aunt, updating him on the status of Sirius Black's trial.

The Gryffindors were a rather interesting group, to say the least. Ron Weasley's atrocious table manners never failed to make Harry lose his appetite. Most of the other Gryffindors were in awe of Harry's status as the Boy-Who-Lived. He did get along pretty well with Neville, though. While he was still shy, Neville was slowly coming out of his shell.

Meanwhile, Harry stayed wary of Anthony. Armed with the knowledge that someone was portioning him to trust Anthony, he was on a constant lookout for clues in Anthony's behavior. However, it seemed that either he was a very good actor or he had no involvement in the potioning at all.

Harry was still unable to perform any of the transfigurations. He had studied ahead in charms, but none of the spells he had tried had worked either. Both he and Professor Flitwick were at a loss as to why. None of the other goblins seemed to have even heard of a similar incident happening.

Potions continued to be very easy for Harry. While the potions were unfamiliar, Harry knew the brewing techniques and processes like the back of his hand. On some evenings, Professor Snape told him stories about his mother, although he refused to speak of his father. Still, Harry began to form a mental picture of the woman that his mother once was.

The rest of his classes passed relatively easily. Despite the fact that Harry was unable to perform any of the practicals, Harry was quickly rising to the top of his class. His classmates soon learned that Harry was the best person to go to when in doubt over any of the theory, second only to Hermione, but she was usually too buried in a book to explain things patiently to them.

-o-o-

One day, in the first week of October, Susan handed Harry a letter from her aunt at breakfast, as was quickly becoming their normal weekly routine. The letter, as was usual, was short and succinct, without the normal politicking in letters with typical Ministry officials. The contents, however, made Harry do a double take when he them for the first time.

_Mr. Potter-  
__Lord Black's trial will be on this coming Saturday at 10am in Courtroom 10. As his heir and aggrieved party, you will be required to attend. Be warned though, many have sought to stop the trial. While there is no guarantee of a positive outcome, you will be forced to reveal your heir status, possibly putting a greater target on your back.  
__Please meet me at my office at 9am on Saturday. The floo address is Amelia Bones' Office and the password is "Voldemort is Voldie-No-Nose"._

_Regards,  
__Amelia Bones  
__Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement  
__Regent of the Ancient and Noble House of Bones_

Harry smiled at the floo password. While it was certainly amusing and funny, it was also quite good, seeing that most of the wizarding population was afraid of saying Voldemort's name and would be unable to say it without stuttering, even if they did manage to figure out the password by chance. Plus, no one would expect a no-nonsense woman like Amelia Bones to have such an amusing password.

Harry turned his attention back to the rest of the letter's contents. While he had been expecting and eagerly anticipating Sirius' trial for a time now, he had not thought that it will take place so soon and at such short notice. Politically, this did make sense though as it would give Lucius Malfoy the least possible amount of time to bribe and threaten people to vote against Sirius.

Glancing down at his watch, Harry nodded. He would have enough time to go speak to Professor Flitwick before heading down to Potions.

"Thank you for giving me this," Harry told Susan with a smile, swinging his bag onto his shoulder, "I will see you in Potions."

Professor Flitwick quickly approved his request to be able to leave the castle on Saturday to attend Sirius' hearing, knowing that Firedagger would approve.

-o-o-

The rest of his classes flew by in a breeze. After class, Harry quickly hurried to the library, burying himself in books about wizarding law. This would be his first appearance in front of the Wizengamot, after all, and he wanted to make a good first impression. Also, it was time to start kicking some sense into the wizarding world. Giving Sirius his rightful freedom was yet another plus.

While Firedagger and Harry had planned for a while to use his unique position as a way to grant goblins more rights and bring change to the wizarding world, Harry planned to up the timeline a little. He didn't see why he would have to wait until after he graduated from Hogwarts when he could start to sow the seeds of reform right now. Sirius' trial would be a perfect place to start.

In the next few days leading up to the trial, Harry grew increasingly more antsy, and he was seen with his nose buried in books more often than Hermione ever was. Furthermore, while Hermione frequently read supplementary books, they certainly weren't the heavy old tomes that Harry was seen reading.

Many wondered why he had suddenly become such a bookworm, but Harry was firmly close-lipped. No one knew about Sirius' trial, not even Susan Bones or Draco Malfoy, and Harry intended for it to stay that way, at least until after the trial.

-o-o-

The day of the trial dawned bright and sunny. Harry ate a quick breakfast in the Great Hall before hurrying to Professor Flitwick's office. He was already wearing silk robes with the Potter crest embossed on them. They also had the Black crest on them, but that was hidden, ready to be revealed at the optimal moment.

As he left the Great Hall, Dumbledore tried to intercept him. Tried was the key word though, as Professor McGonagall distracted him, giving him a sly wink behind Dumbledore's back. Harry smiled back at her, making a mental note to thank her later.

Once he arrived at Professor Flitwick's office, Professor Flitwick wished him good luck and told him that he'll see him later. Then, Harry threw the floo powder into the fireplace and called out, "Amelia Bones' Office". Instead of their signature green, the flames turned blue, and Harry whispered, "Voldemort is Voldie-No-Nose". The flames then turned bright green and Harry stepped into them.

-o-o

After a period of dizziness and disorientation, Harry was spat out of a fireplace, covered in soot and ash. He mentally groaned. No matter how hard he tried or how much he practiced, he was never able to land on his feet when coming out of the floo. It seemed to perpetually dislike him for some reason.

Harry got up, brushing himself off. "Mr. Potter," Madam Bones greeted, with a slight twitch of her lips from his clumsy landing.

"Madam Bones," he replied, with a slight incline of his head, "Or is it Regent Bones today?"

"Madam Bones, as I will be serving in my position as Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement today," she answered, gesturing to the chair in front of her desk, "Have you been reading up on wizarding law?"

"Yes," Harry confirmed, sitting down, "Many of the laws are very different than goblin laws, but I do understand the laws and politics that will be called into question today."

"That's good," Madam Bones said, rearranging the papers on her desk, "Lord Black's trial will likely be slightly different than what the historical records say though. This is how I expect it to go."

The next half hour was spent discussing how they were expecting the trial to go. Harry listened and nodded at the right places, asking questions whenever he wanted some further clarification.

Mentally though, he was thinking about how to best work his own plans around Madam Bones'. He didn't want to sabotage her plans after all; he did want his godfather to gain his rightful freedom. It would be tricky, but if he managed to get his piece in after the verdict was announced, then that would be the optimal scenario. However, things almost never went according to plan, so Harry was ready to just wing it.

Finally, it was a quarter to 10. Harry and Madam Bones made their way down to Courtroom 10, Madam Bones introducing him to various people along the way. Harry tried frantically to remember all of their names and faces.

Once they reached the courtroom, Harry and Madam Bones separated, Harry taking his seat in the benches, while she sat up front as the lead interrogator.

As the clock struck 11, the doors to the courtroom open and a mangy figure strode inside, flanked by aurors. After nearly 10 years of waiting, the trial of Sirius Orion Black finally began.

-o-o-

**A/N:** Next up, the trial of Sirius Black! Plus, Harry gets to kick the butts of a bunch of old wrinkly men and women. It's going to be a fun (and very humorous) chapter! :D

Thank you for reading, following, favoriting, and reviewing this story! Your support means a lot to me!

Chapter posted: December 16th, 2019

Tentative update date: December 23rd, 2019


	14. Chapter 11: The Trial of Sirius Black

**Chapter 11: The Trial of Sirius Black**

As the mangy, black haired man strode towards the chair, Harry took the time to observe him. Sirius Black looked far older than his 30-some years. Azkaban had aged him.

Once he reached the chair, the chains rattled and secured him in place with a loud clang.

A round man wearing a lime green bowler hat, who Harry assumed was Cornelius Fudge, the Minister of Magic, announced, stumbling slightly over his words, "Criminal hearing of the 5th of October, into offences committed under the International Statute of Secrecy and the Wizengamot Charter Laws of 1684 by Sirius Orion Black, resident of unknown location. Interrogators: Cornelius Oswald Fudge, Minister for Magic; Amelia Susan Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement; Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Chief Warlock. Court Scribe, Dolores Jane Umbridge, Junior Undersecretary to the Minister."

The entire Wizengamot was motionless and quiet. Quieter than they ever had been in those halls. Finally a slimy voice exclaimed, "This is preposterous! Sirius Black is guilty! He murdered all those muggles. He betrayed the Potters! Why are we even having this farce of a trial?"

"I must agree with Lord Nott, Cornelius. Why are we having a trial that we already know the results to?" asked Dumbledore, gazing over the tops of his glasses with a disappointed frown, "Our precious time could be spent doing far more important things."

Amelia Bones' authoritative voice decreed, "Sirius Black never had a trial. Whether he is guilty or innocent at the end that is of no matter, but he must receive a trial. This is by the Wizengamot charter."

The members of the Wizengamot grumbled. However, no one else objected.

"If that is all," Cornelius Fudge muttered, "I would like to get on with this trial,"

He paused for a moment, taking a deep breath and exhaling it through his nostrils. "The charges are as follows: that the accused was part of a criminal organization led by You-Know-Who known as the Death Eaters, that the accused betrayed the location of the Potters leading to their subsequent murder by You-Know-Who, that the accused murdered Peter Pettigrew, that the accused murdered 12 other muggles, that the accused caused a severe breach of the International Statute of Secrecy by performing magic in the presence of muggles, and that the accused is an illegal animagus and failed to register himself on the animagus registry."

Harry was surprised at the final charge, but went with it anyway. He stood up. "Members of the Wizengamot," he said, projecting his voice throughout the stone chambers, "As the victim of Sirius Black's crimes, I would like to demand the use of Veritaserum."

"Hem hem," a saccharine girly voice came. Harry ignored her in favor of staring down the minister of magic and Albus Dumbledore.

"Now, now, Harry, my boy, surely Veritaserum is unnecessary? We all know the truth of what happened. Surely we need not waste precious resources in order to pander to your whims?" Albus Dumbledore asked, with a benevolent-seeming smile.

"I disagree, Chief Warlock," Harry replied, opening his mouth to continue before a voice interrupted him.

"Hem hem," the voice said, "Who are you to speak to the esteemed members of the Wizengamot this way? The only living victim of Sirius Black is Harry Potter. Surely you're not alleging that you're Harry Potter?" At this, she gave a high pitched giggle.

"And who are you to question me?" Harry snapped back, "But for the record, I am Harry James Potter, Head of the Ancient and Noble House of Potter."

Mutters broke out once again, the members surprised that the Boy-Who-Lived was here. That wasn't the only topic of conversation, though. One voice rose loud above the rest, "But if we allow the use of Veritaserum now, then how will we be assured that we can't be brought up on trumped-up charges, forced to reveal our family secrets?"

Madam Bones floundered for a moment, clearly not having expected to be questioned. Harry, however, spoke up, "Under the Pureblood Families Rights Act of 1754, Veritaserum can be used in trials with the consent of the family head. Questions would be approved in advance by the family head."

Madam Bones looked at him gratefully. Harry smiled back at her.

"I consent," Sirius said croakily, voice ragged from disuse.

"But the family head is the one being tried! How do we know he won't choose questions specifically benefiting his purpose?" an angry voice shouted. Harry recognized his signature blonde hair. Lucius Malfoy.

"If you know the laws as well as I do, which you should, Lord Malfoy" said Harry, unable to resist the slight verbal jab, "You would know that in such cases, it is the heir who gives approval."

"Of course I know the laws!" Malfoy exclaimed, reddening.

"Then I'm sure you wouldn't object to the questions that I have set forth?" Harry asked, passing a roll of parchment with the Black family seal to Madam Bones.

"Wha- what? I mean, you can't possibly be the Black Heir! I would know! My own son is the heir!" Malfoy was clearly flustered. His knuckles turned white with the pressure he was gripping his cane with.

"Oh?" Harry asked with faux innocence, "Then, kindly explain this." He tapped his pinkie finger with his wand, and the Black heir ring shimmered into view.

The courtroom gasped as one. Mutters broke out, exponentially growing in volume.

"Quiet!" Madam Bones boomed after half a minute of this, "As Lord Potter is both the victim of this man's crimes and the heir to the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black, I am inclined to honor his request," she continued, making sure to emphasize his status.

"All in favor?" Almost everyone raised their wands.

Madam Bones nodded, gesturing towards the auror standing against the wall. He stepped forward and put three drops of Veritaserum onto Sirius' willing tongue.

"What is your name?" Madam Bones asked.

"Sirius Orion Black," came the monotonous reply.

Madam Bones nodded. Then, the questioning began in earnest. She glanced down at the parchment in front of her, "Were you the Secret Keeper for the Potter cottage in Godric's Hollow?"

"No." Mutters began. Harry smiled to himself.

"Who was the Secret Keeper for the Potter cottage in Godric's Hollow?"

"Peter Pettigrew." The Wizengamot debated furiously amongst themselves.

"Did you betray The potters?"

"No."

"Are you or were you ever a death eater?"

"No."

"Did you murder the muggles?"

"No."

"Did you murder Peter Pettigrew?"

Back and forth the questions went, Madam Bones reading off the list that Harry had given her. The mutters from the Wizengamot grew louder with each successive question. She had to call for silence multiple times, and many tried to interject.

Finally, she reached the end of the list. "Does anyone have any more questions for the accused?" she asked.

The entire chamber was completely silent. A quill drifted down to the floor with a thud that seemed to echo around the silent chamber. Everyone turned to face the owner of the quill, who blushed, the color of her face matching the pink of her cardigan.

Cornelius Fudge puffed his chest out importantly, "I believe that clears the accused of all charges," he declared, "He is free to go."

"Wait one moment, Cornelius," Madam Bones said, putting her hand up to forestall stop gavel's downward path, "We still have the charges of being an unregistered animagus to deal with."

"Yes yes," Cornelius blustered, "You're quite right, Amelia."

"If I may," Harry interrupted, "As Mr. Black has already served 10 years for crimes that he did not commit, I suggest that he is to be released effective immediately and pronounced a free man. If it is the technicalities you're worried about, the time that he has spent in Azkaban will be credited towards his sentence of being illegal animagus, which I believe carries a maximum prison sentence of 1 year."

"Great idea, my boy," Cornelius Fudge exclaimed jovially, "Yes, yes, we'll just go with that. Mr. Black, you are free to go." The chains holding Sirius sprang open with a clatter. He sat there, still in shock.

"Am I right to presume that you will have the result of this trial sent to the daily prophet immediately?" Harry asked.

"Of course, of course," Cornelius Fudge agreed easily.

"Then," Harry said. "I believe that all we still have to deal with is the matter of recompensation."

"Wh-what recompensation?"

Harry smirked nastily, "Well, considering that Mr. Black spent nine unjust years in Azkaban, I think that 1 million gallons per year is fair."

"B-but Sirius Black's imprisonment is not my administration's problem. It was the previous administration's. Millicent Bagnold signed off on it not me."

"Yes," Harry agreed amiably, "But it is your administration's fault for ignoring the inquiries from the goblins regarding the lordship of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black. Had you paid attention and even investigated slightly, the truth would have came out far before this."

"The Wizengamot has not received any inquiries from the goblins. I would know," declared Dumbledore with a smirk.

"Of course you wouldn't have," Harry responded, "They were sent to the Minister's office."

All eyes turned to face Cornelius Fudge. He floundered under scrutinizing gaze of so many pairs of eyes staring at him, waiting for an answer, "I never received any such inquiry," he said, still trying to sound official.

"A few years ago you had all messages from the goblins redirected to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, "Harry reminded him with a sneaky smile, "And seeing that the Chief Warlock has said that he has never received anything regarding Sirius Black, let me say this: it is by the order of the Chief Warlock that the late Lord and Lady Potter's wills were sealed. In those wills, there contained evidence that Sirius Black was innocent. It was not until that I claimed my family rings and unsealed the wills myself that I discovered the truth. I immediately brought it to Madam Bones' attention, and she called for this trial that due to your dilly-dallying took almost two months," Harry paused for a moment, "And by the way, guess who was the witness and executor for their wills? Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore."

The Wizengamot burst into uproar.

Harry's passionate voice carried over the crowd, "I would say that I expect that the Wizengamot will investigate this accordingly, but I do not have much faith in the Wizengamot right now. Instead, I will say that I hope you all do the right thing." He made eye contact with each member of the Wizengamot as he said this.

Harry sauntered down the stone steps of the chamber, he shot back one last parting remark, "Let this be a reminder that it will do you well in the future to see that not just goblin inquiries, but all other inquiries, are taken seriously, and not just rerouted to the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures."

With that. he approached Sirius and give him a hand up. The two of them embraced, Sirius crying tears of joy that he was finally freed. After nearly 10 years, godson and godfather were reunited.

"I expect that the Black Family vaults will be receiving an influx of gold quite shortly," Harry called behind him, as he guided Sirius out of the chamber.

Fudge called after them, "Wait, what about the charges of being an illegal animagus?"

Harry smiled, "I think you need to check your memory. it seems to be that your memory is deficient. Perhaps because of old age?"

"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore called down. It seemed that the members of the Wizengamot were intent on hindering their departure.

"What is it?" Harry snapped.

"You do not have permission for being out of school. That will be a detention for you."

"On the contrary," Harry smirked, "Professor Flitwick gave me permission."

"Then in that case you should head back to school nonetheless. Your godfather will be safe in my hands," Dumbledore said with a grandfatherly smile, approaching Harry.

Harry smiled back dangerously, "Thank you for your kind offer, Headmaster, but no thank you. "I will be escorting him to medical facilities before heading back to the school. Don't worry, I will be totally safe."

Finally, he pulled his godfather out the door and into the hallway. Once outside, they made their way out of the ministry, keeping out of sight of both Ministry workers and Dumbledore, who was trying to chase them. When they reached the atrium, Harry activated the portkey that took them to Gringotts.

-o-o-

**A/N:** Happy holidays all! Thanks for reading!

Chapter posted: December 23rd, 2019

Tentative update date: December 30th, 2019


	15. Chapter 12: A Place of Refuge

**Chapter 12: A Place of Refuge**

Harry and Sirius landed in the transport room of Gringotts to the sound of alarms blaring. The guards stepped forward, weapons at the ready, not even relaxing the slightest when they realized that it was Harry.

"Prove your identity," the leader barked. Harry immediately recognized him to be Fiercetooth.

Harry nodded, pricking his finger with his dagger. As he mumbled a few words, the drops of blood quickly reformed into the words, "Harry James Potter", which hung in the air for a few moments before vanishing entirely.

Fiercetooth nodded sharply, causing all of the other guards to relax and put down their weapons as well.

"What's happening?" Harry questioned.

Fiercetooth shrugged, "The alarms started a few minutes ago. No one came to inform us about anything, so I'm assuming it has nothing to do with us."

Harry nodded in thanks.

"But what's been happening over at that school of yours? You haven't written any letters to me, your coolest uncle," At this, Fiercetooth swung his arm around Harry's shoulder and pretended to be disappointed, "I've been reduced to hearing what's been happening through the rumor mill, and let me just say that if even half of those things were true, then Hogwarts must be really exciting. There are some really crazy rumors floating around. Is it true that you have obtained the sword of Ragnuk the First?"

Harry laughed, drawing the sword gently from its sheath and laying it out so they could all examine it.

"Great Goddess! So the rumors are true!" One of the guards exclaimed.

Harry smiled, returning the sword to its sheath.

"So are the other rumors true as well?" Probed Fiercetooth.

"Depends on what rumors you're talking about," Harry answered, "But I'll better get going. He needs a healer," he glanced at Sirius who was still in a daze.

"Where are we?" Sirius croaked out, his attention snapping back to present.

"Gringotts," Harry answered.

Sirius stared at him in shock, "This doesn't look like Gringotts. And I thought Gringotts didn't allow Portkeys."

Harry smiled. From an outsider's point of view, the room certainly did not look anything like Gringotts. The walls, floors, and ceilings were of bare rock, unadorned except for the ruby red sword mounted above the door. Light came from the lamps scattered around the room and mounted on the walls. It was a huge contrast from the main entrance hall, with its marble tiling, gold inlays, and diamond chandeliers.

"It's the transport room for goblins. Only those with specialized portkeys can portkey in. All others would be bounced off the wards," Harry explained. Sirius still looked confused, not understanding why they had access to this room and what was going on.

Abruptly, the alarms stopped. The goblins and Harry relaxed marginally.

Harry took a look at Sirius' expression and sighed, "Come on, Sirius. You need a healer." He led the still befuddled Sirius out of the transport room, waving goodbye to the guards, who looked like they still wanted to fish for a story.

The two of them traversed the back hallways of the bank until they reached the carts. Strangely enough, they didn't meet anyone on their way. After a short cart ride to the bottom of the great caverns that Gringotts was built upon, the two of them hurried towards the hospital wing.

-o-o-

The hospital wing was similarly built as the transport room, with mostly bare stone walls. There were beds lining the room, nearly as far as the eye could see. Crisp white linens and pillows adorned the beds, and shelves of potions were interspersed among them. At the end of the room was a door, which Harry knew from experience led to the healers' offices.

"Harry! What injuries do you have now?" Savageknife, one of the goblin healers, asked, suddenly appearing behind him and pushing him towards a bed.

"I'm perfectly fine. It's him," Harry gestured towards Sirius, shaking Savageknife off.

"I'm sure you think you are," Savageknife replied, ushering Sirius towards one of the beds, "But based on the rumors I've been hearing and the shoddy quality of healing at Hogwarts, I will check you over after I'm done with him."

Harry groaned, "What exactly to the rumors say? You know that rumors tend to err on the side of the dramatic."

"Perhaps with other people," Savageknife said, beginning basic medical diagnostics on Sirius, "But with you, you know as well as I do that the rumors tend to be mostly correct, if only because it is impossible for them to get any more dramatic. I would know; after all, I've had to heal you after every incident for the past 6 years."

"You and all the other healers, yes," Harry conceded with a dramatic sigh before changing the subject, "Any idea what was going on with the alarms a few minutes ago?"

"That wasn't you?" Savageknife asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No," Harry answered, "I figured that you will have more of an idea that I would."

"Well, I've been in the Hospital Wing all day. I haven't a clue." Savageknife replied, as he scanned the glowing runes that appeared on the stones.

"How is he? Is the damage bad?" Harry questioned.

"Not too bad, considering," Savageknife answered, "I should be able to fully heal his physical injuries. It's his mental state that I'm concerned about."

"Who are you calling mental?" an angry voice came. Evidently Sirius was lucid again, "You should be calling him mental; he seems to think we're in Gringotts for whatever reason."

Sirius did a double take when he saw Savageknife, "You're a goblin. What's going on? Is this a dream?"

Savageknife glanced at Harry, "You might want to get Firedagger here."

Harry nodded. As he exited the hospital wing, he could hear Savageknife asking Sirius what was the last thing he could remember.

-o-o-

Harry knocked sharply on the stone door, nodding to the two guards on either side.

"Come in!" A voice shouted from inside.

Harry stepped inside, glancing around. The office, with its oak desk and cabinets, seemed to have stayed the same during the time that Harry had been in Hogwarts, but yet it felt different. Firedagger was still scribbling something on a sheet of parchment, engrossed in his task. Finally, he glanced up.

"Harry!" He exclaimed, surprised, smiling warmly at him, "How did the trial go?"

"Sirius was declared innocent. Savageknife is seeing to him now," Harry answered, "He's very confused though."

"And anyone in his situation would be," Firedagger said briskly, getting up, "Come, walk with me. How has Hogwarts been? You know as well as I do that letters can't possibly convey all that has been happening, so spill."

Harry tried to change the subject, "What were the alarms about?"

"Just Dumbledore and a few other Wizengamot members creating a fuss. Inconsequential, really. Now, spill," Firedagger demanded.

The two of them walked to the carts, taking one to the hospital wing. The walk seemed infinitely longer this time around, with Firedagger grilling him for every minuscule detail of what had happened over the course of the month that he had been at Hogwarts.

-o-o-

Finally, they arrived at the Hospital WIng. As soon as they got there, Firedagger pushed Harry towards one of the beds, telling Savageknife to examine him.

Harry gave Firedagger a look of betrayal but grudgingly let Savageknife start to cast diagnostics.

Seeing Harry's expression, Firedagger said in a firm, no-nonsense voice, "Based on what you have told me, yes, you're getting a medical examination. I don't care how much you protest you're perfectly fine; I quite frankly don't trust the Hogwarts mediwitch, so just deal with it."

Turning to Sirius, Firedagger continued, "Now, Lord Black-"

"Lord Black is my grandfather," Sirius interrupted, "Besides, my mother disowned me, so I couldn't possibly be Lord Black."

Firedagger frowned, "I'm sorry to inform you that your grandfather died five years ago."

"Don't be sorry that old Arcturus finally kicked the bucket," Sirius said with a laugh. He quickly sobered up though, "If he's dead, then my father must be Lord Black."

"Your father has been dead for nearly ten years. He died shortly after you were sent to Azkaban, actually." Firedagger explained, "But even then, the late Lord Black named you specifically as his heir, skipping over your late father."

"But my mother disowned me!" Sirius exclaimed.

"She did not have the power to kick you out of the Black family," Firedagger elaborated, "That power rests solely with the current Lord of House Black, which is you."

"But I don't want to be Lord Black!" Sirius declared.

"It does not matter," Firedagger said, "Your grandfather explicitly named you his heir in his will. Besides, I daresay you'll bring the Black family a breath of fresh air. It'll be a great improvement from the previous Black Lords. Now, if we could move on?" Firedagger was getting slightly annoyed.

"Why are you being so nice anyway?" Sirius demanded, "Well, for a goblin," he amended.

"And that, Lord Black, goes right to the root of this whole matter," Firedagger smiled, "Now, I understand that this may be distressing for you, but I ask that you don't interrupt until I finish."

Sirius grudgingly gave a nod. Firedagger began to weave a story of a little boy, abused and neglected by his caretakers, being adopted by goblins and flourishing. As he finished the story, Sirius impatiently questioned, "But what relation does this have with anything?"

"The little boy in this story is Harry," Firedagger nodded over towards where Savageknife was force feeding Harry potions so that there could be no confusion over which Harry he was talking about.

Sirius was quiet for a moment, taking everything in, "Who were the caretakers in the story? They will pay!" he exclaimed fiercely.

Firedagger smirked, showing all of his pointed teeth, "I'm afraid, Lord Black, that you are six years too late. They have paid, and are still continuing to feel the ramifications of their actions."

Sirius winced, "Can you not call me Lord Black? Call me Sirius."

"Very well," Firedagger said, "Sirius it is."

"So you've raised Harry since he was five?" Sirius asked.

"Yes," Firedagger answered, before lowering his voice and continuing, "I think of him as my son, although the other goblins wouldn't appreciate the clan leader thinking of a human as his son, no matter the fact that Harry's a goblin in every way but physically."

Sirius was speechless, "I- I-"

"It's okay, you don't need to say anything," Firedagger said.

Sirius smiled. In that moment, the two of them, Black Lord and goblin clan leader, formed a tacit agreement to protect Harry, with their lives if necessary. They were very different, but both of them shared one defining similarity - they both cared deeply for Harry Potter.

"So, tell me, exactly what revenge did you enact on them?" Sirius asked, changing the topic. With that, Firedagger regaled him with tales of how the Dursleys had suffered.

-o-o-

After half an hour of diagnostics of all sorts, Savageknife finally declared that he could find no fault with Harry's physical condition. "The mediwitch at Hogwarts must be better than I thought," he grumbled, "Although you need to remember to continue taking that Purging Potion! There are traces of over ten different loyalty potions in your system right now. They will have little to no influence over you, but you must continue! Honestly, the wizarding education these days." He shook his head.

Seeing that Sirius and Firedagger were engrossed in conversation at the moment, he decided to go find Sharpblade. They had a lot to catch up on, and not too much time before Firedagger would force him to go back to Hogwarts. Not that he didn't like Hogwarts, of course, but he hadn't spoken to his best friend in ages.

-o-o-

**A/N:** Thanks for reading everyone! And thank you for those who have favorited, followed, and/or reviewed! It never fails to make me smile whenever I get a notification for someone following/favoriting/reviewing my story.

A super big thank you to Hemlockconium for not only being an amazing person overall :D, but also for reminding me of so many minor plot points that I almost completely forgot about (which will become apparent when we get back to Hogwarts - can't believe I forgot about Fred and George!) If you haven't read her _A Squib at Hogwarts_ story or her Kali Black series, I highly recommend you do!

Happy New Year all! See you in 2020!

Chapter posted: December 30th, 2019

Tentative update date: January 6th, 2020


	16. Chapter 13: A Trip Down Memory Lane

**Note:** Warnings for references to child abuse/neglect.

**Chapter 13: A Trip Down Memory Lane**

As Harry walked through the stone passageways beneath Gringotts, he marveled at how different everything felt. Not wrong, just different.

Gringotts was Harry's home for many years. His life with the Dursleys had faded to a distant memory. Despite the constant belittlement due to his status as a human, it was the first place he truly felt safe. And, coming back from Hogwarts, where he constantly had to stay on guard, that feeling of safeness and homeliness was all the more prevalent.

Harry still clearly remembered the day that Swordclaw and Stormaxe rescued him from the Dursleys. That day was possibly the craziest day of his life. It was a whirlwind, truth to be told, of crazy emotions and feelings and things and this whole new world of magic that he had just discovered.

_The two strangers rang the doorbell while Harry was vacuuming the sitting room, as was normal on a Thursday morning. Aunt Petunia quickly chivied him back into his cupboard before opening the door._

_Through the walls of his cupboard, Harry could hear Aunt Petunia and the two men talking about him. Him! Who would take an interest in him, of all people? Then he heard Uncle Vernon bellowing in anger about a bank account that he, the freak and the bane of the Dursleys' existence, apparently had. Didn't Uncle Vernon constantly complain about how much money Harry cost them?_

_Before Harry could ponder this further, the door to his cupboard was sharply yanked open, and Aunt Petunia hissed at him to behave before she pushed him out into the sitting room._

_The two men looked strange. Almost like those aliens from the cartoons that Dudley liked to watch. They had long pointy ears and barely reached Uncle Vernon's waist with their short stature. It was the first time Harry had met what seemed to be adults that were as tall as he was._

_They asked him a few questions. Harry told them the truth. Why were they so angry at him now? He just told them what Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia had always told him._

_One of the strangers had marched over to the kitchen and yanked the door open, catching Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia eavesdropping. Both looked furious, and Uncle Vernon's face had turned puce. Harry wanted to cower away, but he knew that always just made the punishment worse._

_After an angry discussion between the four of them, one of the strangers beckoned towards him, "Go fetch your stuff."_

_This made Aunt Petunia very angry. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed her mouth again as soon as she saw the expression on the stranger's face._

_Harry hesitated for a moment but a glare from Aunt Petunia was all that was needed to make him scurry to his cupboard and come back out with an armload of stuff, mostly Dudley's old rags._

_One of the strangers raised his eyebrow, "That's everything you own? We won't be coming back."_

_Harry gulped. They were taking him away? While he would be glad to be gone from the Dursleys, what if they were worse? Silently, Harry nodded. If possible, the stranger looked even angrier._

_"Come then," the stranger, who had been silently watching their interactions, said in an oddly feminine voice, "My name is Stormaxe."_

_"Nice to meet you, ma'am. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon call me Freak although they say that the teachers should call me Harry," Harry replied._

_Stormaxe's slight frown was the only outward sign of her displeasure of how the Dursleys had treated their nephew, "No need for the ma'am, Harry. Just call me Stormaxe," she corrected him gently, as she showed him the pendant that she wore, "This a portkey. It's a form of magical transportation."_

_As the other stranger argued with Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia, Harry pondered Stormaxe's words, "Uncle Vernon says that magic isn't real."_

_Stormaxe bared her teeth in a scary looking smile, "Your uncle lied to you about a lot of things, young Harry. Now, shall we?"_

_Harry grasped the pendant warily, and with that, they vanished from the Dursleys' home._

And so began Harry's life with the goblins.

Looking back on it, Harry smiled. Not only was it the craziest day of his life, but his life was also forever changed by the events that had occurred on that day.

He shuddered to think about what his life would be like had his account manager at the time not discovered those irregularities and he had grown up ignorant, living with the Dursleys. His life would have been very different, that was for sure.

_Harry and Stormaxe landed with a thump in a bright room. Stormaxe remained standing, but Harry landed flat on his face. With a soft smile, she bent down to help him up._

_Once Harry was on his feet, he looked around at his strange surroundings. There were torches on the rough stone walls. Torches, of all things. How bizarre. _

_There were guards standing at the entrance of the room, carrying swords half as tall as they were. They wore a fierce and rather frightening look on their face._

_Stormaxe seemed nonplussed. Smoothly, she flicked out a dagger that Harry didn't even know she had and pricked her finger. As the droplet of blood hurtled rapidly towards the floor, it reformed into the word "Stormaxe" and hung in the air for a moment before dissipating entirely._

_Harry stared at her, mouth agape."How did you do that?"_

_Stormaxe smirked, "Magic."_

_Harry looked at her for a moment more, as if analyzing the veracity of her words._

_Just then, the other stranger who had accompanied Stormaxe appeared in the room. Just like Stormaxe had done before him, he pricked his finger and the drop of blood reformed into the word "Swordclaw"._

_"Any problems?" Stormaxe asked him._

_"None," the person who he presumed was Swordclaw said with a ferocious looking grin._

_The guard, who had previously been watching silently, spoke up, "And the boy?"_

_"We will vouch for him for now. We need to have a discussion with Firedagger before making any final decisions," Stormaxe said serenely, before guiding him out of the room. After glancing at her expression, the guard just nodded and acquiescenced without arguing._

_Harry couldn't help but let his eyes wander as they passed through the stone passageways. They were brightly lit, with torches lighting the way, seeming to have come from a fantasy realm. He also noticed that the ceilings were quite low, much lower than he was used to when he was living with his aunt and uncle. He could barely believe that this was real and wasn't all just a dream._

_Before he knew it, they had arrived in front of an imposing door flanked by two guards. With a nod to each of them, Swordclaw rapped authoritatively on the door._

_"Come in!" A voice boomed._

_Harry eyed the being sitting at the desk with interest. He looked rather similar to Swordclaw and Stormaxe, but the wrinkles on his smiling face denoted his seniority. Well, he wasn't smiling per se, but you could tell from his eyes that he was happy._

_As Harry examined the office-like surroundings, Stormaxe briefly explained to him what had occurred over the past few hours. _

_A clearing of the throat and a brisk, "Well Mr. Potter," brought him out of his thoughts. Harry turned his attention back to the conversation in front of him._

_"Harry," Stormaxe said gently, "This is Firedagger. He is the clan leader."_

_Harry nodded, "Hi, Mr. Firedagger."_

_Firedagger laughed heartily at that, "No need for the Mister, young Harry. Just Firedagger will do."_

_Harry nodded in acknowledgement, still wary._

_Firedagger sobered up, "I've been told you were previously living with your aunt and uncle, who were supposedly paid for your care from your own vaults. It seems that they never received the money and it was misappropriated. Rest assured, the matter will be investigated and rectified shortly. As we speak, I have investigators combing through the records, trying to pinpoint where the money actually went. Your account manager will also meet with you in the coming days."_

_Harry nodded again, unsure of what he should say. So many things were spinning around his head, it was impossible to keep track of them all, let alone voice them. He had bank vaults? Did that mean bank account? So he had money? Did his parents leave him that money? But didn't Aunt Petunia always say that they were lazy, good-for-nothing wastrels?_

_Perhaps Firedagger sensed his thoughts, and so he continued, "I have also been informed that your aunt and uncle have lied to you about many things, the presence of magic being one of them. Unfortunately, that is not a topic that I can do justice explaining right now, as we have limited time and Stormaxe is insistent on getting you to the hospital wing for a brief checkup sometime today. However, I will attempt to give you a brief overview and answer any immediate questions you may have."_

_Harry nodded again. While he was slightly apprehensive about going to the hospital wing, as his relatives had always threatened severe bodily harm if he was ever examined by a doctor, he realized that they weren't here and the people here, no matter how strange their appearances may be, actually seemed to care._

_"So. Tea?" He offered, pouring them cups of tea and allowing them to fix it to their liking. Harry realized that this was the first time he was allowed to sit at the table and have tea with everyone else. When he had been living with the Dursleys, he had been relegated to the kitchens or his cupboard. _

_Once everyone had taken a sip of tea, Firedagger began his explanation._

_Over the next half hour, Firedagger weaved a wondrous tale as Harry listened raptly. He explained the presence of magical beings living alongside nonmagical beings since the dawn of time. He explained the international statute of secrecy, the conflicts between wizards and goblins and other magical creatures. Hogwarts. Gringotts. The first wizarding war and the defeat of Voldemort. His parents' deaths. His survival of the Killing Curse. And his status as the Boy-Who-Lived. _

_Throughout it all, Harry listened rapidly, first in fascination, and then numbness and growing horror. At the end of it, he broke down into tears that the Dursleys had not allowed him to cry for many years. Even though he was only five, he was disillusioned with the world, knowing of the callousness of people firsthand. To know that his parents had died in such a manner, protecting him, and how the Dursleys had brutally tarnished their memory was horrifying to him, but not too surprising, now that he knew the truth._

_As Firedagger, Swordclaw, and Stormaxe comforted the sobbing boy, they shared a glance. They were all in agreement. They would do anything to keep Harry happy and safe. And the Dursleys had to pay._

_Once his tears had dried up, Stormaxe declared in an overly chipper voice that they should go visit the hospital wing. Firedagger, not wanting Stormaxe's irate expression directed towards him, agreed. Together, the foursome set off towards the hospital wing._

_After an exhilarating ride down to the depths of the goblin caverns. Harry was ushered towards the hospital wing. The healer, who Firedagger introduced as Savageblade, directed him to a bed, and started performing diagnostics on him, muttering incomprehensible spells and causing glowing symbols to appear. He looked at them sharply before doing much the same thing again, except this time, different symbols appeared. He repeated this over and over._

_At this point, Harry was quite frankly exhausted from his emotionally draining day. He must have dozed off, for the next thing he heard was a loudly shouted, "By the Goddess!" _

_Harry jumped, opening his eyes and shooting straight off the bed. As soon as he realized that he was no longer at the Dursley residence, Harry calmed down and sheepishly climbed back onto the bed. No one else seemed to be paying attention though, as they were all watching Savageblade who was staring gape-mouthed at the symbols glowing on the stones. _

_Savageblade finally spoke, "I apologize for my outburst. It's just that- that there is a soul fragment in that curse scar of his."_

_Audible gasps were heard. "You can perform the ritual, I presume?" Firedagger asked, his voice a forced calm._

_"Yes," Savageblade confirmed, answering Firedagger, "Although in addition to that soul fragment, there are also signs of severe physical abuse, neglect, and malnutrition."_

_Firedagger nodded, "Perform the ritual as soon as possible. Please also compile an official healer's report for my records. I do intend to get revenge, after all."_

_"What is going on?" Harry interjected._

_"There is a soul fragment from Voldemort stuck in your scar. I suspect it came from the night that he murdered your parents. We need to remove it as soon as possible and Savageblade will be performing the ritual to remove it," Firedagger explained._

_Harry nodded, satisfied with the explanation._

_"Now," Savageblade said to Harry, "I suspect this ritual will be quite painful. I will have to immobilize you for your own safety. But no matter what, you need to will the soul fragment out. Can you do that?"_

_Harry nodded._

_Savageblade laid a sheet of metal on Harry's forehead. With a flick of his dagger, Harry realized that he could no longer move. He tried to relax and calm his racing heart beat._

_Harry could hear Savageblade start to chant. As the pain grew stronger, the words seemed to fade. He tried to remember what Savageblade had told him - will the soul fragment out. He tried his best to do that, pushing that soul fragment out of his head. He didn't want it there. _

_Suddenly, the pain stopped, all at once. Savageblade immediately plucked the sheet of metal from his forehead and handed it to Firedagger, who rushed out of the hospital wing, presumably to ensure that it was destroyed properly. _

_Turning back to Harry, Savageblade handed him a tray of potions that he seemed to have suddenly acquired. "Drink up!" he said to Harry. _

_As Harry obediently drank the potions, only making the occasional face at the absolute horridness of their taste, he found himself slowly drifting into darkness as the adrenaline wore off. Just as he succumbed to sleep, he saw the concerned expressions of the goblins hovering above him. He realized that this was the first time he could remember feeling cared for. He felt a warm bubbly feeling in his chest. For the first time in his memory, he was loved._

Harry was jerked out of his reminiscing thoughts by a surprised cry of, "Harry! Why are you here? I thought you were still at that wizard school of yours!"

Harry broke out into a beaming smile as he spotted his friend Sharpblade running towards him. With a grin, they settled into their usual pattern of banter as Harry began to detail the events of the past month.

-o-o-

**A/N:** A little backstory! Harry's backstory is just as fascinating as what is happening present day, and I figured it was time to give you all the flashbacks I had promised. There will be more throughout the story, fear not, and another chapter set in Gringotts before we head back to Hogwarts.

Thank you for reading! I am in absolute shock/joy that there are now 500+ followers for this story. I never would have thought that would ever have happened when I first started writing, so from the bottom of my heart, thank you! And especially to those who have reviewed, I love hearing your thoughts! Thank you everyone!

Chapter posted: January 6th, 2020

Tentative update date: January 13th, 2020


	17. Chapter 14: Plots and Plotting

**Chapter 14: Plots and Plotting**

While Sharpblade and Harry were chattering away and catching up, Firedagger, Swordclaw, Stormaxe, and Sirius were discussing plans on how to keep Harry safe. Safe from Dumbledore. Safe from Voldemort. Safe in general, really.

"He needs to go back to Hogwarts soon," Sirius said, stating a fact, "He can't stay here forever."

"Yes," Firedagger confirmed.

"But Dumbledore is still at Hogwarts," Sirius replied.

"So he is. But not for long," the goblins shared an evil grin. Dumbledore would definitely regret messing with them.

Sirius smiled devilishly back. Who knew that his Marauder adolescence would be so useful in plotting now?

-o-o-

Albus Dumbledore sat in his office. His once overflowing bookshelves were now bare. At least his various gadgets were still there. His office would seem unbearably empty and quiet if it weren't for their constant whirring and humming.

As the tangy sweetness of his favorite lemon drops dissolved on his tongue, he pondered the issue at hand. It was, once again, the one and only Harry Potter. the Boy-Who-Lived. A better moniker might have been the Boy-Who-Lived-to-Cause-him-Trouble, but he couldn't see the wizarding public being too happy with that.

Dumbledore let himself crack a smile at that. As if they would ever stand for that. But their savior and hero was a real pest.

He was so close, so close to finally fulfilling his ultimate dream. It had taken him so many years to even come so close to this victory. He could see the tip of the mountain. He could literally taste the tangy sweetness of victory. He was so close.

And now Harry Potter had to stand in the way.

He would have to go, just like all the others. It was for the Greater Good.

The world would be so much better with him as the supreme head. Everything he did was for the Greater Good.

-o-o-

Anthony Goldstein sighed as he flopped onto his bed. His roommate had gone who knows where and hadn't been seen since breakfast. And Harry was supposed to trust him! Enough to tell him where he was going to disappear off to for the whole day!

And when he had gone to ask Professor Flitwick, he had just been waved off and told that Harry had left school to deal with private family matters, the nature of which he could not disclose. This was so unfair! Harry Potter was supposed to be his friend! He was supposed to tell him everything!

His parents were going to be so disappointed. His one job when he went to Hogwarts was supposed to be to gain Harry Potter's trust and loyalty. His parents had even provided him with Trust Potions to help smooth the way.

He had thought it would be difficult. Harry Potter would no doubt be sorted into Gryffindor and constantly surrounded by a horde of surrounding admirers.

But instead, Harry Potter was completely the opposite of what he had expected. He was sorted into Ravenclaw, and not only that, they were roommates. Anthony had originally expected Harry Potter to be a tad big-headed from the fame. But he had actually grown up with goblins! Oh, had his parents had been shocked to hear that!

But now, ugh. If Harry Potter had gone off on a private family trip without informing him, his parents would be furious. He was going to be in for a painful winter break if things kept continuing on this way.

-o-o-

Ron Weasley was depressed. The food at Hogwarts just couldn't compare to his mum's cooking. Not only that, Harry Potter wasn't talking to him! The classwork was also really hard. He didn't understand any of it and he was always hungry!

His mum had threatened to ground him over winter break if he didn't manage to befriend Harry Potter by then. But who would want to befriend a bookworm Ravenclaw anyways?

The fact that he was Harry Potter did make up sightly for the fact that he was a bookworm. He was Harry Potter! The Boy-Who-Lived! But he was still a bookworm. Who wanted to hang out with a nerd, even if he was Harry Potter?

But his mother had told him he had to. So he would, otherwise he wouldn't get dessert all break. But first he had to find him. And before he was going to trek through the school searching for him, he was going to get a snack first.

-o-o-

Draco Malfoy was annoyed. No one listened to him. No one cared who his father was. It was as if the noble house of Malfoy had no influence at all!

His father had told him for years, lecturing him about the noble deeds of the house of Malfoy. That everything a Malfoy said was how things were. That everybody looked up to them. That invoking the Malfoy name would grant him instant respect. That was how things were supposed to be.

Oh, his fellow first year Slytherins looked up to him, of course. He had been made their de facto leader, but even his grasp on that had been tenuous at best ever since Potter had come around preaching house unity, of all things.

Honestly, what even gave him that right? If he had anything to say about it, Potter would be dead. But he had to sit there and pretend not to despise Potter's guts while acting civil!

One day, he was definitely going to get back at him. Especially for that awful, preposterous rumor that had started spreading during History of Magic. It was false! It was! But everyone kept believing Potter of all people. Although if he was honest with himself, maybe it was just a little true. Just a little nugget of truth buried in that blatant falsehood. Malfoys were more dignified than that!

Potter had better watch out. He should have known better than mess with a Malfoy. Revenge was going to be so sweet.

He would have to write to his parents. Perhaps they would have ideas for enacting revenge?

-o-o-

Fred and George Weasley were in the Gryffindor Common Room, whispering furiously. They had a pressing dilemma in front of them - what should they do about Harry Potter?

On one hand, he had possibly pulled off the greatest prank ever by claiming Godric Gryffindor's sword but yet still being sorted into Ravenclaw. On the other hand, he was causing poor little Ronniekins a lot of emotional distress.

Of course, they knew that Ron was just exaggerating. But their mum had written to them, giving them explicit directions to pay attention to Ron. Why Ron insisted on befriending Harry Potter was beyond them. But what they did know was that Harry Potter was not as friendly and affable as the rumors might have painted him.

"Hey, brother of mine," Fred whispered.

"Yes, my lesser brother?" said George.

"We all know that I am the better one," Fred retorted with a haughty sniff, "But what if we were to recruit Harry Potter?"

"You mean, to help us pull off our pranks?" George asked.

"And to give us insider information on the Ravens," Fred confirmed.

"And he's also friendly with the Badgers and the Snakes to boot," George added.

"So we are in agreement then?" asked Fred.

"Yes, my twin, we are." George answered.

The two of them smiled identical grins. Anyone watching them at the moment might have had concerned over what new pranks they were undoubtedly plotting.

-o-o-

Lord Voldemort, aka Tom Marvolo Riddle, was annoyed. How could he, the greatest wizard of all time, be stopped by a puny eleven year old? To add insult to injury, the same person had managed to stop him at the age of one! How was this possible?

There was only one way to solve this problem: Harry Potter would have to die. Not that he wasn't going to kill him before. But this just moved the timeline for his death a lot further up.

But anyways, it would have to wait for a while yet. First he had to get a body. Stupidly naive people like Quirrell were hard to come by, after all. And then, once he had gotten one again, Harry Potter was going to be as dead as a doornail.

-o-o-

**A/N:** Sorry for the delay in posting this chapter! There are a lot of things in real life that I've been dealing with right now, so I've been busy.

This chapter really sets a lot of thing up, and I also had to get a lot of stuff planned out in order to write this chapter in the first place. So while it's short, I hope you still enjoy the foreshadowing and the various POVs.

Thank you for reading!

Chapter posted: January 14th, 2020

Tentative update date: January 20th, 2020


	18. Chapter 15: Weasley Interactions

**Chapter 15: Weasley Interactions**

Harry arrived back at Hogwarts late that night, when it was almost curfew. The hallways were all but deserted as he hurried past the suits of armor and paintings on his way up to the Ravenclaw tower.

"What is so fragile that saying its name breaks it?" the knocker asked him.

Harry sighed. He had always hated the riddle that the knocker asked. Not only was it horrible for security, but if someone needed to get back into the common room in an emergency, things would be bad.

Not that he didn't like learning little tidbits of facts throughout the day, like the rationale for the knocker claimed that all Ravenclaws enjoyed. He just thought it was dreadfully inconvenient.

But at least he knew this one, so that was something, right?

"Silence," he told it assuredly.

The door swung open to reveal the Ravenclaw common room.

Exhausted after the long and exciting day, between getting Sirius freed and catching up with his friends at Gringotts, Harry went straight up to his dorm room and collapsed onto his bed.

-o-o-

Thankfully, the next morning was a Sunday, so Harry got to lie in bed before getting up to face the day.

By the time he got up, Anthony was nowhere to be seen. Shrugging, he got dressed and went downstairs to the common room.

Hermione was, unsurprisingly, reading a book. As Harry approached her, she looked up, "Finally awake?"

Harry smiled, "Yes."

"I heard you were gone for yesterday for family matters. Everything all right?" Hermione asked, concerned.

Harry grinned this time, "Everything's more than fine. It'll probably be in the Daily Prophet, actually. Let's go eat breakfast and I'll fill you in."

The two of them walked down to the Great Hall and sat down. Just as they did, an owl flapped its way over to them.

Harry smiled, detaching the letter with expert ease and handing the rolled up Daily Prophet to Hermione. He chuckled at the contents:

_Prongslet,  
__I thought you might want to see this and I didn't want to bother Flitwick with it. Happy reading!_

_Lots of love,  
__Sirius Black_

Peering over Hermione's shoulder, Harry skimmed through the article. It stuck to the facts for once, which was odd for the Daily Prophet, but he wasn't going to look a gift horse in the mouth. It was probably going to go back to its typical half-truths tomorrow anyway.

Once he had finished reading, he sat back and started piling food on his plate. He was famished. As he ate, he watched Hermione's facial expressions change.

When she was done, she put the newspaper aside and stared at him, "How much of that article was true?"

Harry smiled. Over the past month that he had gotten closer to her, she had begun taking the veracity of sources like the Daily Prophet with a grain of salt. "Most of it, surprisingly."

"Wow," Hermione said, the only thing she could think of.

Just then, a red-haired pest came their way. Ronald Weasley.

"Hey Harry! When you are ready to stop hanging around bookworms, you can always hang out with me," he shouted, food still visible in his mouth.

Harry was repulsed by his atrocious table manners, but responded all the same, "If I may remind you, I am one of those so-called bookworms."

"Yea, but you are Harry Potter! You are better than them!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry just raised an eyebrow.

A pair of twins came over. He had seen them before, at the Gryffindor table. They always seemed to be laughing and pulling one sort of prank or the other. Judging from their familial resemblance to Ron, he guessed that they were Weasleys as well.

"We apologize for our prat of our brother," one of them started.

"Unfortunately, we can not choose our family," the other continued.

"But we can do our best to ensure that he does not bother you in the future," the first one finished. The two bowed, and then chivied Ron away.

Harry shared an amused glance with Hermione.

Before he could say anything, the twins were back, "Once again, we apologize."

"Oh, the horror!"

"We forgot-"

"-to introduce ourselves!"

"I am Fred"

"and I am George"

"or am I Gred"

"and perhaps I'm Forge!"

Harry was mildly amused by their antics. Their manner of speech was definitely something to investigate. Did they have telepathic communication or something?

He also made an internal note to find a way to differentiate between the two of them. While they were identical twins, that didn't mean that they weren't slightly different, and knowing their differences might benefit him in the future. Plus, it was likely to get on their nerves, seeing how much pride they clearly took in being as similar as possible.

As Harry was thinking, the twins continued, "Either way"

"we are"

"the Weasley twins"

"mischief makers extraordinaire!" they said together.

"So," Harry asked, "Did you want something?"

"As a matter of fact"

"Yes, we did"

"How did you know?"

Harry just shrugged and smiled a sly smile. "A master never reveals his secrets. Now what did you want?"

"Your help in planning and executing our pranks." The twins stopped beating around the bush.

"And in return, what do I get?" Harry questioned.

"Full immunity from our pranks," came the quick answer.

"As well as being part of the joy of pranking!" the other twin added.

"So when do we start?" Harry asked. He hadn't played a good prank in a while.

He ignored the disapproving look that Hermione shot him. She was a very by-the-book, rule-abiding person. There was nothing wrong with that, honestly, she just had to learn to lighten up sometimes.

"Now," the twins had identical sly grins on their faces.

However, their prank plotting was interrupted by a prefect approaching them, who judging from his familial resemblance, was yet another Weasley. Honestly, how many were there? Harry could only hope that this one was not as bad as Ron.

"It's perfect prefect Percy," one of the twins whispered to him.

"My brothers aren't bothering you, are they?" Percy asked in an authoritarian tone.

"No, of course not," Harry replied easily.

Percy raised an eyebrow, as if doubting the veracity of his words. "I'll be watching. Come on, you two, I need a word with you."

With a mournful sigh, the twins got up and followed Percy out of the Great Hall, but not before shooting faces at Harry behind Percy's back.

"The library?" Hermione questioned.

"The library," Harry confirmed.

Once they had ensconced themselves in their special spot in the library, Harry told Hermione the events of the day before, skimming over what had occurred at Gringotts. Much of that stuff was a secret.

If he was perfectly honest, Harry was surprised by the fact that Firedagger allowed him to keep the sword of Ragnuk the First. Although it did make perfect sense if he thought about it, seeing as Firedagger had that ability as he was a direct descendant of Ragnuk the First. But still. The fact that the goblins had allowed him to keep it rather than storing it safely at Gringotts spoke volumes about the amount of trust they had in him. Harry vowed to never break that trust.

The rest of the day passed quickly, with Harry and Hermione finishing up their homework and doing some extracurricular research. And if most of the books that Hermione was reading were law books, Harry didn't comment, only pointed her in the correct direction for supplemental material with a smile on his face.

-o-o-

**A/N:** Unfortunately, with midterms coming up, I won't be able to update next week. Therefore, the next update will be two weeks from now.

As always, thanks for reading! And thanks especially to those who review! I love reading reviews! :D

Chapter posted: January 20th, 2020

Tentative update date: February 3rd, 2020


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